The Cliff
by tulip meadow
Summary: The Ring of the Nibelung AU. What if Brünnhilde decided to preserve her honor in another, more effective way, as it seemed to her? She asked Wotan to give her not to a fearless young hero but to an elderly man. In certainty that an aged husband wouldn't threaten her chastity and would die soon anyway. But she forgot to specify that he should be human…
1. Sleeping Beauty

**_Also posted from my accounts on Archive of Our Own and (in Russian) Ficbook._**

 ** _A perfectly crack case of Mime/Brünnhilde shipping. Not recommended for Wotan's fans, the Gibichungs' haters and Wagnerian purists in general._**

Clouds thickened over a tall cliff, growing red in the rays of the rising sun. Eight warlike Valkyries were flying in the air around the cliff, and the ninth was on her knees, awaiting her final sentence. What was her fault? Only that she obeyed her father'a true will and not the command impressed on him by Fricka, the Valkyries' proud stepmother.

Not looking at his daughters, Wotan brought his spear on the ground:

"It is decided! You are a Valkyrie no more! You will fall into an enchanted sleep, to be won by the first man that wakes you up!"

"Ah! Father, have mercy!" cried the horrified Valkyries.

"Such is the fate of a traitress. The rest of you – keep away from the cliff unless you wish to share Brünnhilde's doom!"

"Father!" the culprit herself stretched her arms out. "Will you allow your most beloved daughter to suffer shame and dishonor?"

"You have known that woe betide anyone who inflicts my rage."

Brünnhilde wept bitterly; tears fell on her sparkling armor.

"Grant but one wish of mine…"

"Leave your wishes to yourself. I do not indulge traitors," Wotan cut her short and prepared to leave. But he was stopped by a desperate cry from the former favorite child:

"Oh, if only I was won by an old man who wouldn't need a girl's maidenhood! Then I would have a hope to soon be free!" and Brünnhilde collapsed on the ground half-unconscious, as if not hearing her sisters' sorrowful cries.

Wotan gave a deep sigh. He would miss his daughter dreadfully. If he hadn't sworn on his spear to protect Hunding… But now that the fate is sealed, it would be better if Brünnhilde could soon be relieved from the yoke of marriage, hateful for any Valkyrie. Perhaps as a widow she would fight among humankind, and one of her sisters will carry her back to Valhalla.

"Farewell, my child," he said aloud, feeling bitterness rise in his throat. "Dearest daughter!"

He embraced Brünnhilde one last time. She didn't dare to argue anymore – just sobbed quietly, and the sobs faded as magical sleep overcame the girl.

"I will put a mantle of invisibility over her," decided Wotan. "No woman, or child, or young lad would see through it… only an aged man would."

He raised his spear, and the cliff was covered by a cloud of gray fog. It grew thicker and thicker. It hid the figure of the sleeping Valkyrie and the few small trees nearby. The dark shadow of Grane who fell asleep along with his mistress seemed to dissolve.

Wiping away a tear, Wotan walked away.

Brünnhilde still heard his footsteps in her sleep. She had forgotten her last outcry and now dreamed of obeying a brilliant hero who would be her equal in courage. Anyway, the cliff is at quite a distance from human lands, few men come here. Only a truly brave warrior would dare to venture into Fafner's forest.

With this happy thought the Valkyrie fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Little Siegfried broke his new sword again and threw the house into a true chaos, demanding another. Mime couldn't do anything about it. Why, why did that Sieglinde have to die? It's said mothers can control their children. And that boy does nothing but fight with him, break everything and run around in the forest. He searches for people – people indeed! No human would care for him like Mime!

Of course, Mime would have been glad to get rid of that burden. If it wasn't for the thought of Fafner's hoard… The gold that rightfully belonged to the Nibelungs. Siegfried Wälsung was to kill the dragon – and get Mime the helm and the ring!

He was stubborn and hot-tempered, but sure to grow up a hero. That's why Mime had to put up with him.

Today, too, he thought hard how to soften Siegfried. He could make a new toy for him, but the boy had broken all toys he had, so it was doubtful another one would help. Deciding that sweet forest berries are just what the kid needs, Mime took a basket, tiptoed out of the house and went into the woods.

He was afraid of it half to death. But Fafner spent most of his time sleeping while the outraged Siegfried definitely wasn't going to sleep at the moment… Moreover, maybe a dragon wouldn't notice a small dwarf…

To put it short, right now it was better to hide in the woods and not in the house…

There was plenty of berries, but many of them were still green, and Mime knew better than to return to Siegfried with a couple of handfuls.

Failing to gather almost anything on the nearby meadows, he resigned himself to his fate and walked further. He turned abruptly away from the dragon's cave. Still, for a long time he practically crawled on his fours and hid in the bushes at any sound.

And then, the moment the dwarf thought that a half-full basket would suffice for the little delinquent, that one shouldn't spoil him, he's insufferable as it is… a true dragon roar thundered very close to him. A thorned head appeared behind the trees.  
Forgetting the berries, Siegfried and everything else, Mime screamed with terror and ran. Ring and helm are all very nice, but to get the hoard one needs to stay alive!

The Nibelung ran, not knowing where, he imagined the giant serpent was already reaching him with open jaws. He ran for an hour or more, until finally he sank, exhausted, on the grass.

There was no dragon nearby. The terrifying roar wasn't to be heard.

"I think he hasn't noticed me after all!" said Mime gleefully. Immediately his spirits rose, he stood up and looked around.

It seemed he had run far away. The neighborhood was unknown to him. But he saw no danger, and thought that he could rest here for a while. Until the dragon is certain to return to his cave, and Siegfried at home calms down and repents of his rage.

In this virtuous mood Mime got out of the small hollow where he had been sitting, and walked to a nearby meadow, finishing with all the berries as he did it. He noticed that it was already dusk – the meadow was almost completely hid by a thick fog.

Suddenly a dark silhouette was visible in the fog, and Mime almost died of fright – he thought it was the dragon. But in a moment he sighed with relief – it was merely a peacefully sleeping horse.

"You've scared me," Mime admitted. The steed didn't wake up. Just in case it could kick in its sleep Mime stepped away, and then he saw a cliff behind the fog.

"Not bad. I'll climb it and try to figure out where is the house. I don't want to spend the night here…"

Climbing wasn't easy, but the dwarf's long and grippy fingers, used to climbing in the underground caves, came in handy. After leaving several feet behind, Mime realized to his surprise that the sun is still pretty high. The fog that he took for a sign of approaching night hung only around the cliff and above the meadow with the horse.

Perhaps it was some kind of swamp vapors. The higher the dwarf got, the clearer became the air, and on top of the cliff there was no mist at all.

Mime was ready to look for the way home, when he saw that there was a warrior in full armor sleeping on the cliff. It must have been the stallion's owner… Odd, though: neither the bright sunshine nor Mime's footsteps woke him.

The dwarf at first wanted to leave at once and avoid possible trouble, when suddenly an interesting idea came to him. Why not try and steal some of the warrior's armor? He might have a good sword, too… He'll present it all to Siegfried, and the damned boy will finally be satisfied with his weapons…

Ready to bolt away at any moment, Mime bent over the sleeping form. And there was a major disappointment: the warrior had no sword. Nor did he have any other weapon.

"Well, at least the helm seems to be fine, Siegfried will like it," grumbled the Nibelung and carefully took off the shining helm with a large silvery plumage. He held it for a while, admiring the sun rays reflecting from the metal and the feathers, and then it dawned on him that the helm's owner continued to sleep like a baby.

"Now there is a clutz!" Mime laughed out loud. "I'll take your shield too. Siegfried, for all that I can't stand him, will watch over these trinkets much better."

Mime put away the helm, looked at the warrior again – and gave a start.

Long black hair fell on the stones. The face was pale and round with soft features… a face of a girl!

Hardly believing his eyes, Mime raised the shield. The unknown maiden's hands weren't overly delicate – she was obviously a warrior after all – but femininely elegant and dainty.

"How lovely she is!" said the Nibelung to himself. During the years spent on the ground he had forgotten the standards of the dwarf women's beauty (large, short hair, dry skin) and gotten used to features praised in the women that lived under the sun.

Meanwhile the girl still didn't wake up. Mime had never felt this awkward before. He became very attracted to the young warrior maid, but, in contrast to his brother, he always realized that his looks that were common in Nibelheim evoked nothing but taunts above the ground. When she does wake up, this beauty can throw him away single-handedly. Besides, time was passing, and Siegfried could crash the house to piece if he wasn't watched over…

"Fine, I will only take the shield. It's not of much use to you anyway, since you're such a heavy sleeper," said Mime. He took the helm and wanted to put it back on the girl's head – but, unable to resist, bent down and kissed her half-opened rosy lips.

Now the stranger moved, yawned and opened her eyes. Mime barely had the time to hide behind one of the stones that lay nearby.

"How wonderful is to see daylight again!" stretching her arms and standing up, exclaimed the girl. "How warm is the sun today! I wonder now: how long have I slept?"

She ran to the edge of the cliff and waved her hand happily:

"Grane, my true Grane! You are awake too!"

A loud neigh came in reply. Clapping her hands, the stallion's owner danced around in joy, stretching her numbed limbs. Mime couldn't help but see how gracefully she moved.

"But where is the hero that woke me up?" remembered the maid and looked around.

The Nibelung understood he couldn't conceal himself any longer. She'll find him sooner or later, and the fact that he had hidden from her like this wouldn't make her think better of the sudden rescuer.

He stood up and sat on the stone:

"I think it's me."


	2. A Valkyrie for Wife

A stunned silence reigned for several moments. The warrior maiden looked in astonishment at her savior – a slumping hook-nosed dwarf. Mime, trembling before her piercing look, calculated if he'd be able to hide in the deep wood where the stallion wouldn't reach him.

Finally the girl stuttered:

"What?.. How?! The Nibelungs live underground, how did you get here?"

"I was running away from the dragon," said Mime. Now the maid's black eyes were full of contempt. "And I got here by accident."

"But didn't Father listen to my pleas?" began the rescued maid and stopped. She remembered that in her despair she begged – not for an illustrious hero, but for an old man. It seems that this wish was granted by Wotan. But the Nibelungs live so much longer than humans!

Tears welled up in the girl's eyes. Link her life with a dwarf like this? It would be worse than death!

"What does your Father have to do with it?" Mime was confused.

Covering her face with her hands, she nevertheless told him the whole story, sobbing. Mime didn't hear everything clearly, but he caught the names of Siegmund, Sieglinde and the Valkyries.

"So you are the Valkyrie who was punished for aiding the Wälsungs!" he figured.

"Yes," nodded Brünnhilde. "But how did you know about it?.. Usually the Nibelungs aren't knowledgeable about humankind. You can't be Alberich, it means, it means... you're his brother!"

"The very same," said Mime. "And it looks like I'm going to get you for my wife."

Brünnhilde cringed. She didn't want even to think of it. At a single look at that Nibelung, shivering like a fallen leaf, she wanted to fall under the earth... no, underwater, to avoid other Nibelungs.

"It has to happen," she said sadly, firm not to cry anymore. The dreadful dwarf mustn't see her tears! She is a former Valkyrie, after all!

Mime was even a bit lost after such a turn of fate. A few minutes ago he considered himself lonely (save for Siegfried whom he mutually hates), deserted and shunned by everyone, and all of a sudden he was able to take this dark-haired beauty, Wotan's daughter, for his bride!

"You'll help me tame Siegfried," struck by a new pleasant thought, he said. Brünnhilde merely asked:

"How old is he now?"

"Four," said Mime with disdain, crushing her sweet hope that had started to grow. "A stubborn and wild boy."

"Don't you dare speak of him like this!" said Brünnhilde in a steely voice. Well, if she should become a motherly figure for the bravest hero and not his wife as she had hoped, she would do this better than Sieglinde herself could have done!

"You'll see for yourself when we come home," said the dwarf. "Actually, it would be better to go there right now if we want to return before nightfall. And there's the dragon..." he shuddered. The girl looked at him with unhidden hatred. She would have gotten used to her bridegroom's looks had they been accompanied by heroic nature. Oh, how gladly she would have thrown this Mime far, far away! But she figured that if Wotan finds out he'll inflict some worse punishment on her.

"At least," she thought, "Mime's obviously afraid of me, and therefore I don't have to worry about my maidenly honor."

What she said aloud was:

"If you insist, fine. We'll ride on my steed. And don't you try and forbid me to take Grane with us!"

Mime didn't even think of forbidding it. Quite the contrary, he was quick to realize that on horseback, especially on a magical stallion, they had more chance to get through the woods safely.

"I'll only look for the road we need," he said.

* * *

The newlyweds didn't speak much on their way home. Mime just one time tried, as a rescuer and a new husband, to embrace Brünnhilde, who threatened to push him off the horse if he ever attempts anything of the sort again. The threat worked, and for the rest of the time Mime clutched Grane's reins, fearful of even accidentally touching the Valkyrie.

Siegfried wasn't home. Mime sighed as he jumped on the ground and looked at the chaos in the rooms and the smithery.

"Ran away to the forest, the little rascal," he explained. "I'll soon have no strength left to deal with him."

"I repeat: stop speaking in this way of the Wälsung child," ordered Brünnhlide. "Why, why doesn't he have a worthier mentor?"

Mime had gotten over the initial shock after the events of the day and was able to argue immediately:

"Sieglinde handed the child into my care when she lay dying! She thought I'll be able to become like a father for him!"

"I believe it was because there was no one else nearby," said the former Valkyrie.

"And that's the thanks I get for selflessly raising that boy!" cried the dwarf bitterly. "I work like a slave day and night, I cook him his food and forge swords!.."

"You don't seem to make a good job of it all since Siegfried doesn't respect you."

"He doesn't understand, he's still a kid!"

"He's Wotan's child... grandchild, I mean," Brünnhilde corrected herself. "It is enough."

"If all Wotan's descendants have the right to bully me and get away with it and break everything I make with such care, I'm already sorry for bringing you to my house," grunted Mime.

Brünnhilde thought whether Wotan would be very angry if she left her groom herself. This dwarf doesn't seem to care about her, and perhaps Wotan wouldn't mind it that his daughter's punishment doesn't go quite according to plan.

But after thinking it over she realized she couldn't go anywhere. How could she leave Siegfried in Mime's care? If she had any duty left, it was to raise the future great hero. That's why she had to put up with the whiny Nibelung and stay with him.

Or should she give it a try and leave with Siegfried? But where would she go? They wouldn't take her back in Valhalla. She would of course be able to defend herself with Grane's help, but how would she feed both herself and the boy? It would come to her having to marry anyway. And nobody knows whom would she marry in that case. Probably a husband like Mime is better than some reckless fighter who'd rule the household with a fist of iron and drag Brünnhilde by her hair. Besides, how would he treat Siegfried? It would be tough work to convince everyone that Siegfried is her nephew and not an illegitimate son.

It seemed that staying with Mime was currently the best option she had.

"I promise not to bully you if you treat me well," said Brünnhilde with a heavy heart.

"That's a start," said Mime.

There was a sound of a horn.

"Here comes that rasc..." glancing at his bride, the dwarf stopped halfway. "Here comes Siegfried! As usual – when he's hungry, he comes home fast!"

He opened the door, and a blond boy with a small but authentic hunting horn in one hand and a wooden club in another burst into the room. He was well-built for a four-year-old, and promised to grow to be very tall.

"Mime! Did you forge me a new sword?" shouted Siegfried impatiently.

Giving him a look of outraged dignity, Mime said:

"I've had no time for that. Siegfried, you'd better meet this woman, she will henceforth be like a mother for you."

The boy looked at Brünnhilde with interest, and she smiled at him:

"Hello, Siegfried, dear. I am very glad to get to care for you, I was your parents' sister."

"My parents?" he said. "Ah, I thought so! So Mime isn't my true father!"

Now it was Mime's turn to give Brünnhilde a furious look.

"No, he's not," she replied. "But he – and now myself as well – we shall be raising you together. And you must treat us like your parents."

"I will treat you like my parents!" Siegfried assured her after some hesitation. "Will you tell me about my true Mom and Dad?"

"I will... later."

In Brünnhilde's opinion, the story of Siegmund and Sieglinde wasn't for children's ears. She should think now how to simplify it a bit...

"And tell Mime to make me a sword!" added Siegfried. "Mime once told me that sometimes men obey women."

"Sometimes", Mime said, irritated. Brünnhilde saw he was close to getting very angry and hurried to ask:

"Doesn't he forge you swords every day?"

"They break!" Siegfried shook his horn at Mime, and the latter stepped back.

"But one day there will be one that won't break," said Brünnhilde soothingly.

She said it in such an assured voice that it made Siegfried forget about the sword – or at least stop constantly asking about it – for a relatively long time.


	3. The Joys of Everyday Life

With the look of utmost disgust on his face, Siegfried ate some of the broth that Mime had cooked for him beforehand and ran away into the woods again. Mime turned to Brünnhilde:

"I hope you will cook for him now."

"I am sorry, what?" the girl hissed.

"Cook," said the dwarf matter-of-factly. "Make soups. Boil fish. Things like that."

Brünnhilde was absolutely dumbfounded. Her, who had only recently flown in the clouds with the rest of the Valkyries! He must be mad to say this!

"I wasn't brought up to," at last she said haughtily.

"Don't worry, a ladle isn't much harder to manage than your stallion's rein," the dwarf said with mock comfort.

"I can see that, as you are obviously unable to manage either," Brünnhilde bit back.

"If you see that, it's excellent. I wasn't planning to cook for you anyway. It's bad enough with Siegfried, but for a man to prepare food for a grown-up woman!"

Unfortunately, he was right, as Brünnhilde fully realized. He wasn't a servant in his own house after all. She wasn't a guest either – she did count as Mime's wife or sort of... And a wife should do household chores, it couldn't be avoided. They would be able survive for some time on forest berries and roots, but that wouldn't go on forever! During the feasts in Valhalla the Valkyries, as Wotan's daughters, ate chicken with cranberries, sturgeon in wine sauce, venison with colorful garlands of mushrooms... The dishes appeared magically, of course...

It had nothing to do with curses or predictions anymore: Brünnhilde was extremely hungry, especially after the talk on cooking. If she confessed it to the Nibelung who was fussing in his smithery, she would certainly get another sarcastic retort instead of words of pity. But if she attempted to cook anything by herself, Mime would naturally remark on it too.

The girl took a spoonful of the dwarf's broth, tasted it and grimaced. If it had just come from the fire, it wouldn't have been so bad, but this broth was sheer horror when cold. Siegfried must have gotten used to it... What had Mime put there? Judging by the smell, the water came straight from the puddles in the yard. The leaves too. The origins of undercooked pieces of meat swimming in the broth and a whitish membrane of fat were better left unknown. For a moment Brünnhilde thought they might have come from Alberich, and she shoved away the plate.

It seemed she _really_ couldn't shirk from cooking.

The anvil was ringing: Mime was absorbed in his work and hadn't it in mind to help his bride. Brünnhilde, lost and confused, looked at the plates, boxes and saucepans. What should she do with all that?

...Late in the evening Mime came out of the smithery, holding a new shiny sword, and looked around with interest. The sight that met his eyes was, to put it bluntly, very odd.

A blackened pot hung over the fireplace. Perhaps there had once been water inside, but all of it had boiled away a long time ago. What was left was a pile of burnt herbs and roots and several onions that weren't even peeled. Another pot, even blacker, was on the table, filled with a heap of burnt grains that Brünnhilde had vainly tried to turn into a gruel. Or maybe into a pie, who knows. But the worst was still coming: when Mime scooped through the grains, hoping that at least a part of them weren't spoiled, his look met with a pair of blank round eyes.

It turned out to be a pike that Siegfried had recently caught. It was powdered with sugar, but apart from that there was apparently nothing wrong with it.

Rolling his eyes, the Nibelung shook off the sugar and fried the fish. Only after a good hearty meal did he go off searching for Brünnhilde, hoping against hope that she had left. Preferably for good. May the dragon eat her!

But no, Brünnhilde was only standing by her Grane's side, stroking the horse's head and quietly complaining.

"My darling wife, do come inside," Mime invited tartly. "There's little to nothing edible left from your cooking, by the way. A couple of baked onions, if I'm to be precise. You can eat them. Thank you for your care and all that, but I think it's unnecessary at the moment."

"What is unnecessary?" pouted the Valkyrie.

"Of course I dream every night how I'd get rid of Siegfried, but first and foremost he should kill Fafner and get the gold for me," explained the dwarf. "But if you feed him like this, it will finish him off in two or three days."

Brünnhilde would have loved to say that it's not her fault, but she couldn't see why. After all, it _was_ her fault that she had lost her powers and couldn't take Siegfried to Valhalla where they wouldn't have had to worry about the horrifying cooking... on the other hand, if it weren't for her, Siegfried probably wouldn't have been born.

"What have I come to, me, Wotan's noble daughter!" she thought with terror. "I wouldn't wish a fate like this to the worst enemy. I live like the poorest peasant, something in-between a wife and a servant to this creepy Nibelung... I can't believe I woke up only several hours ago – oh, I wish I was still asleep!"

"What have I come to!" Mime exclaimed, as if reading her thoughts. "Trying to teach household duties to a spoiled proud brat!"

"Look at yourself!" she spat, unable to think of a better answer.

"Listen, if you're so fond of talking with this horse, maybe you'll want to live separately in some... stall?" the dwarf suggested sleekly. "As I see, you are of no use in my home. You refuse to be my wife in truth. You make a mess of the household. Although, if you try and make yourself helpful in the smithery..."

"I'll take care of Siegfried – I can't leave him with you!" said the girl firmly.

"I don't see any care of yours. He ran off to the woods just as usual."

"It can't happen in a single day! He must get used to me!"

"If he plans to get used to you in twenty years, I'll better throw you out now. It will save me a lot of trouble," Mime decided.

"No, please," Brünnhilde forced herself to say. "I will learn all these... chores. I can't abandon Siegfried! What will be the purpose of my life if not bringing up a future hero?"

Mime relented:

"Fine, I'll wait. But learn faster, my dear. Or be kinder to me."

"Don't you hope for that!"

Closely watched by Mime, she had to clean everything left from her cooking attempts, including the pots. The latter was extremely hard – she had never done anything like this before – but thankfully her arms and hands were still strong. She angrily polished the copper so that sparks flew around.

She was lucky Siegfried came home when the cleaning was over and Mime had gone to bed. Brünnhilde didn't want the boy to see her in such a degraded state.

"Hi, Brünnhilde!" he yelled from the doorstep, but immediately got distracted:

"Whoa! A sword!"

He grabbed Mime's creation and waved it vigorously, but soon his face fell:

"Not agaaain!"

The sword got bended. Siegfried threw it away.

"You told me that Mime would make a sword for me!"

"But I didn't say he'd do it today," Brünnhilde corrected him gently.

" _Why_ can't he forge me a proper sword?" the boy stomped his foot.

Weighing the answer carefully, very relieved that Mime couldn't hear her, the former Valkyrie replied:

"Perhaps because it's too early for you to deal with real weapons."

"Early?" Siegfried gave her a betrayed look.

"Merely waving the sword to and fro doesn't make a true warrior, dear," Brünnhilde put the boy on the bench by her side. "Are you familiar with the laws of honor? Or with the rules of battle? Or..."

Siegfried was amazed:

"Mime told me nothing about it!"

"Of course he didn't," shrugged the girl. "He thinks you'll only fight foolish beasts... whatever their size is. But Siegfried, believe me, a former warrior, to be hailed as a hero among mankind you'll have to learn very, very, very much."

"From Mime?" Siegfried cringed.

"Why Mime? _He_ doesn't know a thing about heroic traditions. I will tell you everything."

"You will?" he exclaimed.

"Certainly. I've been a Valkyrie, Siegfried, and I've known lots of warriors in my lifetime. I'll teach you all the arts and skills you need starting from tomorrow."

From that moment Brünnhilde could be sure that someone besides Grane truly needed her. It was pretty obvious Siegfried could do with a mother figure.


	4. Lessons in Heroism

In the following morning Brünnhilde woke up firmly determined, first, to teach Siegfried the art of battle, second, to triumph over Mime. The dwarf lacked the courage to actually fight with her, but his sharp tongue was worse than many sharp swords. But the girl wanted to make sure that quite soon it will be her, and her only, who'll have the last word!

At breakfast (bitterish gruel cooked by Mime, Brünnhilde didn't even want to guess what from) she announced:

"Siegfried, today you'll go to the forest only after I've taught you some heroic fighting skills."

"Now!.." the boy pouted.

"Or I'll tell Mime to _stop_ forging swords for you," said Brünnhilde in a steely voice.

Mime gave them a victorious smirk. Brünnhilde hated it to be on the same side as him, but right now persuading Siegfried was more important than squabbling with his tutor.

"I have friends among the forest animals," said Siegfried in the meantime.

"I'm glad you do. But you don't want to spend all your life with beasts, now do you? Great. So I'm going to lecture you on fighting heroic battles till midday, and afterwards you can go into the woods and play."

Siegfried had to be content with this. Upon finishing his meal he went upstairs to his bedroom to hide his precious horn that was ready for his daily quest.

The boy had barely disappeared behind the door when Mime said, not wanting to be forgotten:

"When Siegfried leaves, you, my dear, will also learn things. From me."

"What things?" Brünnhilde protested.

"Your memory needs fixing, I see. Household chores, what else?"

The former Valkyrie was lost. She couldn't come up with a fitting answer – the day before she herself promised to master cooking. Mime, meanwhile, was glowing: he had so easily succeeded in baffling Wotan's sarcastic daughter! Of course, she had no trouble with taming Siegfried, that fool, but she was no match for Mime!

His triumphant musings didn't last long, however, as Brünnhilde chuckled:

"I didn't think I'll be learning it from you. Judging by the taste of yesterday's broth and today's gruel, if I'll have that as an example, Siegfried will get poisoned faster than if I try to cook all by myself."

"Why?" Mime looked at her with some surprise. "He has been eating my food for four years, and if he's not healthy and grown nobody is."

"He's healthy thanks to Wotan's blood in his veins!"

"Wotan's blood, eh? Excellent, what are we talking about? If Wotan's grandchild can survive thanks to his blood, a daughter of Wotan certainly can as well!"

"Our life force isn't unending! Some time we'll expire from your broths!"

"That's why you so much need to cook your own!.."

...Standing at the door, Siegfried, who had long ago hidden the horn and returned, was simply contorted in silent laughter. Brünnhilde was very strict, but it looked like she was kind too, and she said she'd teach him many interesting things… But most importantly, since this lady has come to their home, Siegfried could describe their life as anything but boring.

The argument started all over again, and the boy managed an almost serious expression and walked into the room. Mime and Brünnhilde unwillingly stopped.

"Fine, I leave you to your arts of fighting, I'll be in the smithery," said the dwarf.

When he came there, to the dear old anvil, he felt calmness filling his soul. How comes he was so exhausted? It was still morning… Though it was obvious. Brünnhilde! It was her fault, and hers alone! Oh, why did he have to kiss her yesterday – and to bring home on top of that? He was distracted by the gleaming eyes, the silky hair, the charming figure… Who could have thought that such lovely looks hide such a vicious nature?

The anvil rang, and sparks flew in the air. Something at least was stable in this world! It seemed Mime wouldn't find peace anywhere but in the smithery anymore.

"They pushed me out, into the smithery," he complained to the universe. "They pretend they don't need me! As if these two could have lived without me! There are no creatures less adapted to real life than Brünnhilde and Siegfried! The dragon will swallow them both at once if I won't be around to remind them to be careful!"

…Siegfried, swinging his legs, sat opposite the window that overlooked the forest. Figuring out his intentions, Brünnhilde firmly stood between him and that window.

"No, you will _not_ run into the woods," she snapped. "Neither will you stare outside instead of listening to me."

The boy gave a huge deliberate yawn.

"Now, Siegfried, if you truly want to be a hero, stop lazing and listen close."

The thought of heroism was very endearing and comforting to Siegfried. He immediately looked up with brightened eyes.

"So," Brünnhilde began grandly. "Let's start with the main part. The human warriors value honor above everything. Anyone who goes against it with unworthy deeds will be disgraced in the eyes of the whole world. And he won't be a warrior anymore, but a lowly robber.

"What should you do to avoid this?

"First, you must always keep your word. For example, if you enter a strange town and swear never to use your weapons – don't use them. Even if someone is shouting insults at you. Remember, if you don't keep your word, you'll be insulted much more.

"Vows are particularly important given words. You die if you break one of these."

"What vows are there?" asked Siegfried who had been listening, awestruck.

"There's the vow of brotherhood, and, on the contrary, a vow of revenge. And, naturally, there is the fidelity vow given at marriage."

Brünnhilde spoke about these vows for a long while, of fine warriors who kept them and got rewards and of foul villains who broke them and lost their own lives. Making sure it all made an impression on Siegfried's mind, she went further with describing honor in general.

"The rule that applies to each and every one who carries a weapon – never fight a wounded man or anyone much weaker than yourself. Even insulting a defenseless man is a very grave offense. It's not punished with death, but not everyone can clear their names after such a shame."

The girl tried to remember new moral stories about warriors that would prove the importance of this rule, and then she noticed Siegfried was looking strange. Something was plaguing his mind.

"What's the matter?" she asked, worried. Had Siegfried himself been attacked by some arrogant human warrior?..

He looked at her:

"Brünnhilde! Will they shame me _very_ much for insulting Mime?"

…In the smithery Mime stopped to have a rest. A new sword was almost ready.

Suddenly it came to the dwarf that the room where he had left Brünnhilde and Siegfried was suspiciously quiet. Did that so-called foster mother let Siegfried go to the woods after all and run away herself?

When he left the smithery, he saw both the Valkyrie and the boy were still there. They were simply silent. Siegfried was staring fixedly at the floor, certain that Brünnhilde was angry and that he wouldn't be able to become a hero now, and Brünnhilde, scarlet, was anxiously glancing around, as if she could see the way to get out of this under the table or behind the door.

"What's up with the two of you?" Mime wanted to know.

"Nothing in particular," Brünnhilde pretended to move the plates on the table for some reason.

"Is Siegfried this dazzled by the laws of honor?" continued the Nibelung. "Speak up! If you're both so shocked, something very much out of ordinary must have happened! Did a dying Fafner crawl here and bequeath his whole hoard to me?"

"He'll sooner bequeath it to Loge!" Brünnhilde managed a smile. "Siegfried, answering back to sarcasm doesn't count."

Siegfried sighed with relief, but he still had a guilty look about him. Deciding there had been enough lessons for one day, he rushed to the staircase, fetched his horn upstairs and hurried off to his animal friends.

"Admirable," said Mime with just the barest shade of irony. "Brünnhilde, how did you impress him like this?"

Brünnhilde's embarrassment had faded away already.

"With the stories of honor – which you, of course, have no notion about!"

"It would have been so much better had you been born a man. You know loads about heroes and battles, and nothing," Mime pointed at the table and at the washing tub, "about women's tasks!"

"Who asked you to marry me?" Brünnhilde raised her brows innocently, and the dwarf grew quiet. Of course, nobody asked him. No one else but an unlucky Nibelung he was could fall in love with a nightmare like this.

No matter; he'll have her doing her chores like any normal woman should!


	5. A Bit of Understanding

The bread went cracking and sizzling in the fireplace. Something definitely wasn't going right. The air smelled of burning.

"Today's result is a charcoal pie," Mime concluded dryly, taking Brünnhilde's creation out. "But you're learning to clean up fast enough, and that's a mercy."

"Stop talking as if I'm a poor relation taken in as a kitchen help!" though Brünnhilde could hardly keep her eyes open, she wouldn't let him laugh last.

"I did praise you a little."

"Like one praises a puppy, indeed!"

"If you want Scaldic poetry, I'm sorry I'm no expert in that," the Nibelung gave a her a mocking bow. "I know I'm not like your oh so wise sisters who sang rhymed praises to each other!"

"Of course you envy our friendship," Brünnhilde couldn't restrain herself. "The Valkyries are very close with each other, unlike some ever-quarreling brothers who can't divide anything fairly…"

A long silence followed. Mime walked to the fireplace and sat with his back turned to the girl. Brünnhilde was surprised – she didn't expect their bickering to end so soon.

"Er, ahem, I'll go feed Grane," she murmured awkwardly.

"May you never return," the Nibelung grumbled without turning his head.

Now what was the matter with him? Brünnhilde recalled her words to him and realized with shame that she had gotten too far this time. She should have known that any hint at his old enmity with Alberich which was entirely the latter's fault would be truly painful to Mime.

Her face flushed red. What to do now? It would be disgraceful to excuse herself before the Nibelung. But she couldn't, plainly couldn't leave everything as it was. She didn't know how long Mime would be ignoring her. He might even never forgive her at all… How could she live, with Siegfried in the woods all day long and Mime not talking to her? What perfect loneliness meant Brünnhilde knew only by hearsay and didn't want to try it herself.

"I didn't mean to say that last thing," she forced herself to speak. "It's… I… I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"You don't know what this Alberich is like," still sitting with his face turned to the fireplace, said the dwarf in a tone so unlike his usual whining or sarcastic voice. "You were born after Wotan stole his gold, right?"

"Yes," Brünnhilde confirmed. "Father told me a little about him, but we've never met."

"He still wanders the earth's surface," Mime said grimly. "Nobody wants to see us in Nibelheim. But if Alberich turns up here, I… I don't know what I'll do with him! Stab him – even my swords will suffice for that! Throw him into a lake! Into the pot!"

Mime's words were filled with such open and bitter hatred that the girl shuddered. She remembered the meat in the soup and realized that Mime would seriously try and boil Alberich if given the chance.

"Frightened, aren't you? You don't know what I had to suffer from him! One day the cave where I lived crushed and I had to move to Alberich's place. This bastard has since been sure that I'm so indebted to him that I must slave for him day and night and lick the dust for such an honor. When dear brother stole the ring, I was sure I was done for… Thankfully it was taken from him quickly enough.

"Why am I telling this to you, though? A spoiled family favorite would be bored to listen of such earthly things!"

"Family favorite!" Brünnhilde exclaimed with bitterness. "I did have my darling sisters and a loving father, but do you think it was all cloudless and shiny? There was Fricka, always irritated, letting off at us her anger at her husband… She poisoned our life through and through!

"What about…" she could hardly stop her tears. "What about my mother who, by the way, thought that the gift of vision was all I needed from her, so since my early childhood she refused to see me, always sent me away to Valhalla until I moved there for good! When sometimes I wanted to visit her, her crazy Norn daughters said that the lady Erda is asleep and shouldn't be disturbed! You here always say that I'm more like a man than a woman. It's natural – Wotan was the only one to care for me and my sisters."

Softened a bit, Mime turned to her:

"And I thought… Could no one be a mother to you?"

"Who?" Brünnhilde shrugged. "Fricka only loved me when I was away at the battlefields, and the only other woman we've had was Freia, and this one needs upbringing herself, she wouldn't make a good mother to anyone…"

"At least you've had a father. The Nibelungs, just for you to know, have a tradition of leaving their children as soon as they learn to walk and afterwards meeting them seldom at best. Or never meeting them at all. Alberich and I, for instance, don't know our parents at all. Everyone gives a hand raising kids in Nibelheim: one feeds them, another would teach them smithery, someone else would give them a new shovel… Our women usually give birth to two or three children, so they aren't lonesome. But I've never gotten on well with Alberich, even in childhood."

They were silent again. Neither Mime nor Brünnhilde were used to being that open and honest – especially with each other. But each was struck by the other's story. Mime had been certain before that life in Valhalla is blissful and devoid of any problems. While the former Valkyrie had never considered how life went in the dark Nibelheim – for her its inhabitants had been silly funny dwarfs, even more funny in their squabbles.

"If I could, I would have raised Siegfried as my son, it would have been better for my plan," said the Nibelung finally. "But Siegfried even at this age has figured out I was lying. Odd, you know: his father was killed before he was born, Sieglinde died when he was less than a week old…"

"Humans have it in their blood, I think," replied Brünnhilde. "Siegfried felt you weren't his father. But listen, why haven't you told _him_ about the upbringing methods in Nibelheim? He'd have understood…"

Mime's face got its old expression back.

"Oh yes, I'll tell everyone about my youth!" he spat. "It's enough I told you, for no particular reason!"

"But you've got to agree that you feel better after speaking with someone else," the girl remarked.

"Oh," said the dwarf. It wasn't so obvious whether he agreed or not. But Brünnhilde, already used to the character and habits of her bridegroom, knew full well he didn't want to admit his weaknesses. Or the fact that Brünnhilde was right.

"So stop grumbling," she advised. "It's evening, Siegfried will be coming back at any moment, and if we keep on standing with tragic faces like this, we'll have to tell him what happened."

"More likely, we'll have to explain why he has no supper!" the Nibelung jumped up, and Brünnhilde knew he had forgiven her.

"Go and pick some sorrels and nettles," he ordered. "You still have time to make a simple soup."

…The soup was edible and even nice to the taste, though Brünnhilde thought there were too many herbs. But she had gotten used to the idea that there would be no delicacies from Valhalla in the nearest future. First, Mime doesn't know how to cook them and won't be able to teach her, second, a deer or a boar must be found and hunted for a start. Who'd get such an animal? Mime, who shrinks in fear before Grane? She herself, without any proper weapons and any experience of fighting anyone but noble warriors? Siegfried with his small club?

Surely, if Siegfried vanquishes Fafner someday and Mime gets the gold, the family would hope to prosper. But who knows when this will happen…

At Mime's instructions Brünnhilde put salt into the soup and took it off the fire. Just in time: a horn sounded outside, and a cheerful though tired Siegfried burst into the hut.

"Evening!" he shouted to Brünnhilde. After a brief hesitation, he nodded at Mime too – he hadn't forgotten the morning incident.

"Hello, Siegfried," smiled the former Valkyrie. "Supper's ready, eat and tell us what it was like today in the woods."

"Today I haven't been in the woods," said Siegfried proudly. "I decided I'm a true brave hero, with Brünnhilde teaching me, so I went for the first time down that wide river that runs by the forest corner…"

"It's called the Rhine," Brünnhilde supplied.

"Down the Rhine, then. I walked and I walked and I found people!"

Mime looked sourly at the child, unsure of how to react to such news. Now Siegfried will of course stop his whining about never being able to talk to people… But what sort of influence could these new friends have on him?"

Brünnhilde, on her side, was very pleased.

"Wonderful! Tell me about them," she asked Siegfried.

"Well… There's a warrior, he's a hero like in your stories. He's called Gibich. And he's got a wife, Grimhild, very pretty and kind, almost like you," Siegfried chattered happily. "And they've got a son, Gunther, he's like me, and a very tiny daughter called Gutrune, and another son, but he's not fully a son…"

"Hagen!" Mime hissed. "Alberich's spawn! I knew his mother's name… Siegfried, I hope you won't be friends with him!"

"He's very odd, doesn't speak to anyone," the boy said. "But I'll be Gunther's friend. Is it allowed?"

"It's allowed," said Mime heartily.


	6. A Friendly Visit

Having eaten the soup, Siegfried went upstairs to sleep – he was tired after playing with his new friend all day long. Mime and Brünnhilde, both slightly worried, stayed to discuss it all.

"I'm still afraid Hagen will be a bad influence," said Mime. "What if they do become friends, and in fifteen years or so Hagen passingly asks Siegfried for a certain ring from the dragon hoard…"

"I don't think so," said Brünnhilde hesitantly. "I'll influence the boy too, and he'll sooner listen to me."

"Brünnhilde, right now all you do with your precious influence is keep Siegfried indoors till midday! But afterwards he runs to and fro on his own until nightfall! Besides, as I found out today, you yourself have very vague ideas of motherhood. Worse, you've filled the boy's head with that honorable nonsense, and now he'll believe everyone's honorable! Hagen can give him a vow of blood brotherhood and then slay him over the ring as easy as snap his fingers!"

The girl blanched:

"B-but what could we do? Forbid Siegfried to leave the house without our permission? He'll be so miserable, poor boy… Tell him to avoid Gibich's castle?"

"Not an option," Mime shook his head. "You don't know how long Siegfried has been dying to find some friends like himself. Oh, why didn't Grimhild throw Hagen into the Rhine? Why is he growing up with the trueborn ones?"

"Siegfried said quite clearly that she's kind. I would have done the same in her place."

"Women! The root of all troubles! Had you all been less soft-hearted…"

"Mime, choose finally whom I resemble more closely – a man or a woman! And stop whining on irrelevant matters. You know what? Maybe this Hagen's harmless – you told me yourself it's common amongst your folk to forget about their children soon after birth… Tomorrow let's go and visit Gibich. After all, we've got the right to do so, since his son became friends with our so… with Siegfried, I mean. Let's go and see for ourselves what Hagen is like and what danger he poses, if any."

"You go," said Mime, relieved. "I'll stay here."

"Why?" exclaimed Brünnhilde. "I won't go alone. It's completely unheard of! A woman – going visiting on her own!"

"Humans think us dwarfs ugly and mock us constantly."

"They'll be friendly with you in accordance with the law of hospitality," the girl assured him. She added to herself that Grimhild, whose favors had once been bought by Alberich, must be quite used to the dwarfs' looks…

"Fine," Mime relented. "But it will be hard to say anything about Hagen now… He's only a few months older than Siegfried and can change his ways a thousand times."

"All the more reason to start watching him while he's still a kid," said Brünnhilde. "Perhaps we'll be even able to reform him somehow."

"Oh, you _are_ a woman, even if you pretend it's not so," said the Nibelung in response. "If Hagen is like Alberich, he won't reform."

"Alright, we'll see tomorrow," Brünnhilde concluded. "But we won't go there together with Siegfried, he'll get embarrassed."

"Yes, he likes running off by himself," the Nibelung agreed in a less kindly tone. "Someday it will end badly."

"Should he follow you in, er, carefulness and watchfulness, he'll never muster the courage to fight Fafner," the former Valkyrie reminded him with a venomous smile.

"If you aren't careful and watchful, you won't survive in this world," observed Mime. "Right, I'm tired of this bickering. I'm going to the smithery now, I'll work a bit on the sword before sleep."

"Good…"

Going to bed, the girl heard the anvil ringing: Mime indeed began to work. After today's quarrel the girl found out she couldn't feel as irritated and angry at him as before. He did, after all, had a hard time with Alberich. And it wasn't like he was happy and contented right now… Well, after Siegfried kills Fafner, things might go better for Mime and Brünnhilde with the hoard…

…Brünnhilde was awoken by a birdsong. A small white bird was sitting on the windowsill, twittering joyfully.

The girl liked birds, even though she had hardly known any besides her father's ravens.

"Birdie," she called tenderly. "Are you hungry?"

The bird went on singing, hardly paying attention. But when Brünnhilde turned to leave, it flew on her shoulder.

"As if you wish to tell me something," Brünnhilde laughed. Naturally, the reply was nothing but a new sweet melody. Having had a turn around the room, the bird flew outside and sat in the tree. Brünnhilde's sharp eyes noticed a nest and the tiny nestlings' heads.

She dreamily watched the bird's family with a tender smile until she remembered what she had to do now. If Siegfried wasn't caught at time, he would run after breakfast into the woods or, more likely, to Gibich's castle. She had to teach him a little, and then soon it would be time to meet those people herself…

That's how Siegfried, after obediently listening to a comparison of Celtic and Germanic heroes, said a cheerful goodbye to his Valkyrie aunt and hurried away to his new friends.

"We'll follow him in about an hour," said Mime, watching him run like the wind, blowing his horn with all his might.

"Yes," said Brünnhilde and suddenly remembered:

"Oh dear! I have no suitable dress! Except for this one, which I've been wearing for these four years."

"Do the Valkyries, too, fuss over dresses?" Mime groaned.

"Well, not in battle, of course. But they care about it. What did you think?"

"Doesn't matter. Anyway, I don't have tailors around here. For Siegfried I mend my old clothing."

"But what do I do today? Maybe I shouldn't go?"

"Shouldn't go, indeed! We've decided we're coming together! Ask Grimhild, perhaps her maidservants could help you."

The girl had no choice but to agree. So, having waited definitely long enough not to catch up with Siegfried on the way, the Nibelung and the former Valkyrie went to visit Gibich on Grane's back. Brünnhilde had to be content with polishing her armor so that it shone in the light, combing her hair and adorning her braid with forest flowers. Mime tried to look indifferent, yet he couldn't help but gaze at the beauty that had dazzled him at first sight three days earlier.

Before leaving Brünnhilde fed the white bird some grains, and it learned to eat from her hand almost immediately. The girl regretted the bird couldn't talk – it obviously wanted to make friends with her…

Gibich's castle was nearby, almost at the forest corner. It was a charming place: maybe less majestic than the homes of rich sovereigns, but surrounded by picturesque valleys, and with thin and elegant towers far less grim-looking than large castles.

The gates were open, and in the garden there were clearly the castle's owners.

Jumping on the ground, Mime and Brünnhilde walked to the gates. Gibich, a large warrior with a wide smile on his youngish face, noticed the guests.

"Greetings!" he said in a warm deep voice. "Who are you, and how did you end up around here?"

"I'm Mime, Siegfried's father, and this is my wife," said the dwarf before Brünnhilde could stop him. "He told us he had met the children of a fine hero, and we too wanted to visit his friends."

"Please, do come in," Gibich invited them. "The servants will take care of your horse. A wonderful horse, not one you see every day!"

"He's mine," Brünnhilde said. "In truth, a magnificent stallion!"

"You're right to be proud of him, good lady," Gibich nodded respectfully. "But come in! Siegfried is now somewhere in the garden. A nice boy, he got on well with our Gunther from the start."

Mime and Brünnhilde followed the hospitable warrior into the garden. There they were seated on a bench next to Gibich's pretty wife. Trying as hard as he could to behave properly, Mime said some compliments to her, and Brünnhilde idly thought that the woman's mouth is too big.

At the hostess's skirts there was a toddler girl, cooing busily over a wooden doll. A bit far away, among the branches of a small chokecherry tree, there was sitting a grim boy, who looked older than his five years because of bitterly suspicious eyes that kids never have. A hooked nose and stooping shoulders gave away his dwarf heredity.

Mime glanced at his nephew as suspiciously as the latter at him.

"Oh, you've seen my eldest?" Grimhild said with embarrassment, seeing what was attracting the guests' attention. "Do forgive him… Hagen doesn't like visitors, he's shy. Serious and thoughtful, too. Doesn't like playing."

"It's nothing," Brünnhilde waved it off with more carelessness than she felt at the moment. "Perhaps it's better he's so calm. And where's our boy?"

"Over there," Grimhild pointed at a rather wild part of the garden which was behind the stalls. Noise and laughter were coming from there, and sometimes two heads popped up in the bushes – a fair and a dark one. "They pretend they're fighting Jörmungandr the world serpent. Oh, it's amazing that Gunther now has a friend to play with! We thought that no one else lives in this wilderness. I have no other sons except Hagen. Gunther was a bit lonely all on his own. And suddenly your son came running! They were inseparable by the end of the first day. Actually wanted to swear blood brotherhood."

"But you didn't allow it?" Brünnhilde asked.

"Certainly not. They're too young. Let them grow up at least another five years, then we'll see."

The former Valkyrie sighed with relief.

As they saw new guests had arrived, Gunther and Siegfried ran out of the bushes. Siegfried (with muddy boots and leaves stuck in his disheveled hair) was astonished to see his foster family:

"Whew! I didn't know you planned to come here as well!"

"Well, it would have been a shame if you were friends with Gibich's family and we weren't," smiled Brünnhilde. "And this, I gather, must be young Gunther."

"Yes, good lady," bowed the dark-haired boy (who looked about as much a mess as Siegfried). "I'm glad to welcome you in our castle."

Grimhild beamed with pride at her well-behaved son, hoping the guests won't discuss the ugly firstborn one.

"Do you know? Gunther and I plan to kill the dragon from the forest!" Siegfried announced, throwing a nut at Mime.

"Not today, I hope?" Brünnhilde asked, uncertain whether to take it seriously.

"Of course not," he assured her. "Today we're not yet finished with Jörmungandr. Besides, one needs a sword to fight the forest dragon, and mine isn't yet forged!" he gave Mime an accusing glare.

"Gunther has no sword yet either," Gibich reminded them to avoid witnessing a family quarrel. "Would you like to share a meal with us, dear guests?"

This suggestion was approved by all. Even Hagen climbed down his tree, and little Gutrune laughed and said "Want honey!"


	7. On World Domination

Brünnhilde had never been a glutton or a sweet tooth, but she was nevertheless very happy to see the dishes served at Gibich's table. Even two days with practically nothing but herb soups to eat were more than enough, and she thought that such a variety is already a point in favor of befriending the warrior's family.

Mime, too, would never miss a free meal.

For a while everyone was eating in silence, if you don't count Grimhild's gentle cooing; the woman was feeding her daughter. But afterwards Siegfried and Gunther excitedly started to discuss the forest dragon, making the wildest guesses about what he looks like.

"He might have three heads," said Siegfried.

"Or seven," said Gunther.

"Or a hundred!"

"And a stinger in every mouth."

"And he can grow all the way to the skies if he wants."

"And he can fly."

"And crawl under the earth."

"And swim faster than any fish."

"Shut up with this tomfoolery!" all of a sudden, Hagen shouted. Everyone looked at him in alarm, and Gutrune began to cry. "The dragon's one-headed, doesn't fly or swim, but it doesn't make him less terrible," he continued. "But it isn't important! He has a hoard of gold, do you realize it? Gold and precious stones and a magic helm and a ring that gives power over the world. You fools aren't worthy of these treasures!"

Brünnhilde herself, who was always proud of her bravery, couldn't stand hearing such a speech from a five-year-old. She trembled and clenched Mime's arm – she was seated directly between him and Hagen. The future dragon-fighters were the only ones who stayed calm.

"Whom did you mean by 'fools'?" Siegfried raised his fist.

"You'll meet me in battle today!" Gunther stood up.

"Boys, boys, no fighting, please," begged Grimhild, her voice shaking. "Hagen, leave the table at once. What sort of behavior is that?"

"I'll talk to you later," Gibich warned.

Hagen laughed suddenly and mirthlessly, obediently rose and left.

"Kids sometimes can be so difficult," the host was beside himself with excuses.

"It's nothing," Mime mumbled. While Gunther, thinking over his brother's words, began to think up new grand plans:

"Wouldn't it be great, Siegfried, to get such a hoard of treasure from the dragon's cave? It's a pity there's one helm and one ring, and we can't divide them."

"We could swap: one day you'll have the helm and I the ring, the next day vice versa," suggested Siegfried. From such extraordinary naïveté, Mime and Brünnhilde both had to bite their lips not to burst out laughing.

"I think world domination would be nice," Gunther went on thinking aloud. "All heroes became lords of something. When I have the ring, I… I will in truth go and fight Jörmungandr."

"And I will first of all take care to have all the weapons I need," said Siegfried. "And find many new friends for us."

Now Mime did burst out laughing. Siegfried gave him a hurt look:

"What would _you_ do with the ring, then?"

At first Mime wanted to say he'd beat the life out of Alberich, but he remembered poor Grimhild was sitting near. Then he considered saying he'll make Brünnhilde finally learn to cook, but thought it too a bit improper.

"I'd build for myself a castle," he answered for lack of a better idea.

"Don't you have one?" asked Gunther. Brünnhilde realized she had to save the day right now. Or Siegfried might be forbidden to visit Gibich's house as a peasant.

"We do, but it's in the woods. My husband doesn't like it, he wants to live, eh, in the mountains," she explained.

"The inhabitants of the woods are so simple and close to nature," said Gibich, slightly envious. "If I got such a ring, I would have gone to conquer other lands. And you, darling?" he asked his wife jokingly.

"Want milk," little Gutrune replied instead with a serious face. Of course her mother instantly forgot the ring and world domination and everything else, gushing over the new word learned by the girl.

"The baby's right," said Brünnhilde loudly. "Let's change the subject! That ring is surrounded by all sorts of nasty legends…"

She spent the rest of the dinner talking with Grimhild, and she hinted she couldn't afford such splendid seamstresses as the hostess. The soft-hearted Grimhild immediately agreed that her maids would sew clothing for Brünnhilde as well, when the latter spoke of payment, she didn't even listen:

"Payment! Nonsense! Our sons already want to swear each other blood brotherhood, how can there be any talk of paying? Maybe later our families will be truly united, young men are scarce around here…" she glanced meaningfully at Gutrune and then at Siegfried.

"We'll see."

Certainly Brünnhilde could understand that Grimhild wanted to secure her daughter's future, but she didn't want to decide anything so early. They should wait until Gutrune grew up. Just any random girl shouldn't seek Siegfried's attention! Brünnhilde would make sure he'd marry a worthy lady. For love. Yes, for love. She'd explain to him which women are worthy, and he wouldn't make a bad choice…

On the whole, there was still plenty of time ahead! As she watched the boys who resumed their game, the former Valkyrie suddenly found herself wishing Siegfried would stay this little for long. It was strange: on the day of her awakening she had hoped he was grown and she could become his lover, then she wanted him to quickly get mature enough to fight Fafner… and now as if something stung her soul: if only he would have remained a child forever!

Deciding that a mother of three could help her, Brünnhilde told her what she felt. Grimhild laughed:

"Yes, that thought enters my head alright, and more and more often. That's the contradiction of a mother's heart, my dear. On one hand we're proud of our growing children, and on the other it's so hard when they stop being kids, our babies… So don't worry. These are the feelings of a true mother."

"Thank you very much, just what I need," Brünnhilde thought. "Me – a true mother! Now what remains is to become a true housewife and (ugh!) a true wife."

Grimhild didn't notice her unease, and everyone had a wonderful day. Hagen didn't make any more appearances and the ring wasn't mentioned again. In the end even Mime was merry, or as much as it was possible to him, and he and Gibich had a long discussion on the ways of forging swords. Gibich never knew he was Alberich's brother, nor did anyone else in the castle. They thought all Nibelungs looked the same.

Both Gibich and Grimhild, though, marveled after the guests had left that Siegfried didn't resemble any of his parents. Unlike Hagen, he had no dwarf features in him, and he hadn't inherited his supposed mother's black hair, dark eyes and round face either.

For Grimhild there was an additional mystery as to how on earth a beauty like Brünnhilde could willingly marry a Nibelung. Gibich was quite tolerant towards all intelligent creatures. In his early youth he himself had almost drowned, overcome with passion for one of the Rhinemaidens, and in his opinion all people and magical creatures were equal when it came to love. But his wife after dealing with Alberich, of course, mentally connected the Nibelungs only with brutality and evil.

* * *

Siegfried went to bed, but on the ground floor of the forest hut candles were lit. Mime and Brünnhilde didn't want to sleep at all. They tried to figure out what to do with Hagen.

"It's horrible!" Brünnhilde exclaimed over and over. "He's only five and yet he speaks like an embittered old man!"

"It seems my brother goes on bringing him up as an exception. And he succeeded. In his own way."

"What will this kid be like when he grows up?" the girl shivered.

"It's awful to think of it… Or perhaps no, not so awful. We'll send Siegfried to kill Fafner, he'll bring us the ring, and we'll take care to remove Hagen if anything happens."

"Judging by his talk with Gunther today, he's not planning to share the ring with _us_ ," Brünnhilde reminded him.

"He'll lend it for a day at least to his loving parents!" Mime said, outraged. "So he will go on conquering the world with the Gibichungs, and you and I'll be stuck in this poverty?"

"Well, no, Siegfried will give us the gold, but the ring…" Brünnhilde was uncertain. "Besides, I'm afraid of it, the ring I mean. Alberich has cursed it, and it's supposed to bring death…"

"Too slowly does it bring it!" Mime sniffed. "Fafner's been keeping it for thirty years, and, damn him, he's alive and well!"

Still, Brünnhilde was filled with foreboding. Perhaps she was mortal now, but some of her seer's gift remained. She remembered the hushed voices in which her parents spoke of the disasters that could happen because of the accursed ring, and she felt an icy and sticky grip of terror so that she jumped up and hastily said:

"No, no. It's better for us to live as we do in the woods, and let Fafner guard his treasure and the ring. It brings nothing but misfortune, and I don't know what chaos will be unleashed if we ever get it…"

Mime was amazed. For the first time, apparently, in his life he wasn't the most frightened one. While the stern and sarcastic Brünnhilde was suddenly in panic like an ordinary girl.

His spirits rose so high that he climbed onto the table and hugged Brünnhilde's shoulders:

"Don't fear that stupid curse. I'm here by your side in case of anything…"

A vision of Mime taking his own sword, bigger than himself, screaming with fear and protecting her from the misfortune came up in the girl's mind so vividly that she couldn't help but smile. But she didn't push her bridegroom away, so sincere did his voice sound. And it had been a long time since anyone supported her (even if it was with the help of a table)… Just the tiniest bit, just a very little the girl nestled against the Nibelung and thought that with her back turned to him she didn't notice his ugliness…

Some sleepy but mirthful twittering came from behind the window. Or perhaps it was her imagination.


	8. The Hunting of Alberich

"I know what we should do," Mime announced suddenly. Brünnhilde felt respect for him – so he continued to think over the matters at hand! She had been sure that because of her small weakness he was going mad with passion.

"And?" she asked.

As if afraid that someone could overhear them, Mime whispered into her ear:

"Find out where Alberich is. He can't be communicating with Hagen mentally from Nibelheim! He must be in the neighborhood. You'll challenge him to a fight, defeat and kill him – nothing doing! Hagen's upbringing will be changed and Siegfried will get the ring."

"Oh, and where's that hint of yours that you'll protect me?" smiled Brünnhilde. "Make war with Alberich yourself – I'm a woman! Isn't it lowly of a man to send a girl to battle?"

"Isn't it lowly to encourage fratricide?" Mime shot back.

"If you are fine with Alberich's murder, you're an accomplice anyway," she snapped, breaking free from his embrace. Mime lost his balance and tried to remain standing on the table. After several moments of this unfair fight the tabletop which had been suspiciously creaking for a long while gave way and cracked, and the dwarf together with the candlestick fell down. Brünnhilde caught the candlestick.

Rubbing his back with a groan, Mime looked at her scornfully.

"If so, let's leave killing out of it. I'll give him a good beating, and he must leave us alone afterwards."

"We can't manage it without bloodshed," Brünnhilde admitted sadly. "For Alberich the power of the ring is all he's got left in life. He had renounced women's love, other Nibelungs, including you, hate him with a passion, and I don't think his son loves him well either. We won't be able to convince him to quit his quest for the ring and leave Hagen alone."

"Siegfried will be invincible if he has the ring!"

"Siegfried must survive till the day he gets it. That's the first point. Second, the ring is still cursed, and I don't have the faintest idea of how the curse can be lifted."

Mime thought for a while and suggested:

"Here's what we can try. We can imprison Alberich somewhere or other. Let him sit there until we think of what to do with the ring."

"Well, suppose we do it…" Brünnhilde said.

"But I don't see how to deal with Hagen. It would have been nice to keep him under lock and key too, but what reasons do we have? He's, by law, Gibich's son. And through Grimhild too he has noble ancestors. We can't put him in prison for not playing with other boys!"

"It _would_ be good to have him removed somewhere," Brünnhilde agreed. "He's not a danger by himself right now, but he spoils the life in Gibich's castle, which is obvious."

"Don't you think of adopting him as well," warned Mime. "Siegfried alone is more than enough for me."

"Of course not… There it is!" the former Valkyrie even jumped with joy. "We should send Hagen to the Rhinedaughters!"

Mime walked around her, looking at her as if she had just turned into a dragon like Fafner. Then he stood on tiptoes and touched her forehead.

"Is everything alright with you?" he finally asked. "Are you maybe insane? Alberich's son to the Rhinedaughters? Who are additionally more lustful than anyone else in this world p?"

"They'll convince him that the ring is theirs and not his," Brünnhilde explained. "And for the ring's sake they'll be prudent and proper as the Norns."

"Many thanks!" Mime said sarcastically. "Better for Hagen to live with us, really. Don't you understand that if we try and talk to the Rhinemaidens they'll make us swear we'll return the gold to them as soon as we can?"

"Fine, fine," Brünnhilde was already half-asleep on her feet. "We'll look for Alberich, and then we'll think about his son."

But in the corner of her mind there stayed the idea that Woglinde, Wellgunde and Flosshilde would have been a nice influence for Hagen.

"In that case get ready, we're going to the castle."

"What?!" exclaimed Brünnhilde. "In the middle of the night?"

"No, at noon, in front of Gibich and Grimhild! When else would Alberich be able to talk to his son?"

"It's late… I'm so sleepy, perhaps I'll have a rest tomorrow and we'll go on the next night?"

"You've had almost five years of sleep on that cliff of yours!" Mime was relentlessly pulling her towards the door. "Take your Grane. We won't be riding – it's too noisy. We'll need him just in case the guard dogs notice us."

The dwarf's sharp nails were pressing into her hand, and Brünnhilde had to obey. They went out into the cool night air. Mime locked the door, and Brünnhilde woke Grane and brought him outside.

"If Alberich gets caught by the hosts, they won't be too glad to see him," Mime was muttering. "He must have his way into the castle other than through the main gates…"

Brünnhilde hardly listened. Her eyelids were heavy, she tripped over every small stone. Thankfully, the wise Grane who had had some sleep led the almost sleepwalking girl on the correct way.

They wandered around the castle on the Rhine till it was near dawn. The sky was getting lighter when the voices of the waking servants sounded from behind the walls, and Grane quickly brought his masters home.

They hadn't tracked down Alberich.

"It can be that he doesn't visit his son every day," Mime was thinking with what energy he had left.

"Nobody visits Hagen!" the sleepless night didn't improve the girl's mood. "You said so yourself – Hagen simply takes after his father and doesn't need any raising for that!"

Mime couldn't answer that. Meanwhile Grane stopped near the door of their hut, and Brünnhilde nearly collapsed while getting down.

"I'm cooking nothing today!" she told Mime. "If you want to drag me to some meaningless quests, you can keep the house yourself!"

"What shall I tell Siegfried?"

"Tell him his aunt is asleep."

Mime realized Brünnhilde was serious and asked with a sigh:

"Where should we search for Alberich next time?"

"If he's a bit braver than you he spends his time near Fafner's cave!" Brünnhilde said in a howling voice, and, after having a satisfied look at the dwarf's jaw hanging open in terror, dragged herself to sleep.

She woke up well into the afternoon, feeling a fleeting touch to the hand.

"Mime!" she cried, opening her eyes. "What right do you have to come to my room uninvited?"

"I thought I have the right of a husband," Mime argued in his mind, but aloud he said:

"Siegfried's worried about your health. He doesn't even want to visit Gibich's children, he fears you're sick."

The girl reluctantly got up and walked downstairs. Siegfried was idly sitting with the fragments of another sword in his hands. He didn't pay the least attention to the sunlit meadows outside the window.

"Don't worry, Siegfried, I'm fine," Brünnhilde smiled at him. "It's just that I couldn't fall asleep for a long time yesterday and I was very exhausted."

"Is everything then truly all right?" Siegfried's face brightened.

"Truly. Run along, Gunther and Gutrune are surely waiting for you."

Siegfried immediately rose up, hugged Brünnhilde, snatched his horn from the table and followed the former Valkyrie's advice. Meaning that he ran towards the Rhine.

"I've left you some soup and bread, have a bite if you want," Mime offered unexpectedly.

"You?.." Brünnhilde was startled. "I mean thank you, but… but…"

But the fact that Mime cared for her was incredible, to say the least. The Nibelung, who seemed not to noticed her embarrassment, picked up the sword fragments with a deep sigh and went to reforge them maybe for the thousandth time.

The cold soup was tasteless and with way too much fat, and the bread wasn't even properly baked through, but this time Brünnhilde bravely ate the whole meal that was left for her. If there had been less fat… she could add some salt and pieces of carrot, for example… and the bread could have used staying in the oven a little longer…

"There it comes!" she thought with horror. "I've become a true mother already, and now, just as I feared, thanks to Mime I'm turning into a true housewife. Me, a Valkyrie, thinking of cooking! Disgraceful! Such a shame! No, what would become of me by the day Siegfried defeats the dragon?"

A dreadful vision came to her: her own older and plumper self, cooking gruel, surrounded by hook-nosed hunchbacked half-dwarfs, with the proud father Mime at the head of the table.


	9. The Fragments of Notung

Two peaceful months have passed since that day. The summer came to an end, and the leaves were slowly turning golden. Birds had almost stopped their twittering – only the silvery-white songbird that resided by Mime's hut along with her grown nestlings was determined to stay in her nest for the winter months as well.

Every morning Siegfried patiently listened to the lectures of "Auntie", as he got used to calling her. He already had notions about a warrior's honor, could fence a little (with sticks, though), wrote runes on wooden plaques, though he hadn't quite mastered these yet. In the afternoon, sometimes accompanied by one of his foster parents, sometimes by himself he ran to the Gibichungs.

Thanks to the warm and open nature of their Rhine neighbors, Brünnhilde and even Mime quickly made friends with them. If the whole family came from the woods to the castle, the visit could last till nighttime. Brünnhilde didn't hesitate anymore to ask Grimhild's seamstresses to sew dresses for her as well, and Grimhild gladly asked the former Valkyrie to look after Gutrune if she herself had to leave. Only Hagen was never glad to see the guests, but they tried not to pay attention to him.

But even in the forest hut Brünnhilde didn't feel as awful as before. She wasn't bored in Siegfried's absence: slowly but steadily all housework became her responsibility. She didn't treat Mime with as much disdain as at first, either. She quarreled with the Nibelung not less (if not more) than in their first days, he didn't grow braver or at least handsomer, and she still didn't let him execute his husbandly rights – but anyway there was no suspicion or hatred between them now. Mime, which was even more obvious, became fond of Brünnhilde. He was more inclined to his first opinion: when he kissed the sleeping Valkyrie it was good fortune rather than bad.

So it happened that on a cold autumn evening, after Siegfried had come home and had been sent to bed, Mime and Brünnhilde were fighting yet again. This time the girl was trying to find out when Siegfried would have a proper weapon. The thing was that earlier in the day Gunther proudly showed his friend his first sword – a small and not a very sharp one, but a sword nonetheless. Siegfried, simple-minded as he was, was far from envying him, but his grudge against Mime strengthened, and when at home the boy had nearly attacked the dwarf with a stick. He remembered about a warrior's honor and attacking the defenseless just in time, and Brünnhilde interfered too.

However, as soon as Siegfried left, she firmly stood in his defence:

"The boy's in fact quite right when he says you're too lazy to forge him a proper blade! Soon he'll be ashamed because he doesn't have a sword yet!"

"I'm too lazy?" Mime cried. "I sit in the smithery all day long!"

"I thought at first you learn from your countless mistakes," Brünnhilde explained in more detail. "But the days pass and the swords don't seem to get any better. They break or bend in a second, not a bit later!"

"Brünnhilde, you can taunt all you like, but I really try my hardest! You speak as if _I_ don't want to hand the sword to Siegfried as soon as possible and see him slaughter Fafner! I dream of that moment! My whole soul is put into my work in the smithery!"

"Oh, now I see why all the swords are so bad," the girl rolled her eyes. "How can they be finely forged if such a cowardly Spül gets put into them?"

"How you love scolding from a safe distance!" remarked the Nibelung. "Listen, you have learned to do chores in the end… Maybe I'll hand over the smithery to you as well?"

"Indeed? Mime, that's beyond all limits of my patience! So I should both keep the house and forge the swords while you'll lie in bed and count flies? Your conscience must weigh you down now! A dwarf – refusing to work in a smithery!"

Mime _was_ ashamed. The Nibelungs didn't have many crafts – the main ones being forging and work in the mines. Mime had never liked digging out metals and precious stones and he was hardly skilled in it, so how could he stop forging? The hammer and the anvil had served him faithfully for years, he had carefully brought them up here from Nibelheim…

"There is one sword that might have suited Siegfried," he decided to unveil the mystery. "It's in a hiding-place under the floor."

"Well then, what…"

"These are fragments. Fragments of Notung, if you remember what it is. I have secretly tried to reforge them into a new blade many times, but – what would you do? – they don't melt!"

"Don't they?" Brünnhilde raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "Show me."

The dwarf nodded, with some difficulty raised a floor panel in a far corner and took out a tarnished but still sparkling gilded handle and two halves of a broken blade, with even the brown spots of long-dried blood visible on it.

"Yes, Notung…" whispered Brünnhilde, hardly trusting her eyes. "To think of it: five years had passed…"

She half-closed her eyes and remembered that battle. Siegmund, courageous, sure of himself, his hair flying in the wind. The raging Hunding. Between them – Notung, shining like a lightning flash and just as fast. Hunding' sword wouldn't have stood against it for long. Brünnhilde had come on Grane's back right to the fighting men. Grane, poor horse – for the first time in his life he neighed fearfully, foreseeing the worst.

Now the warrior's are dead and not even buried, Brünnhilde and Grane are deprived of their magic powers, and Notung is getting dusty under the hut's floor.

The crackling of flames reminded Brünnhilde of the reality. Mime lit up the fire in the oven.

"Look here!" he exclaimed desperately and put both pieces to melt. Brünnhilde came closer and gave a cry of shock. The fire was burning bright and steady, but Notung didn't even consider melting. The girl had stood by the oven for almost an hour, and when Mime, tired, threw water on the flames, they saw that the metal didn't get at least slightly warm.

"You see it. It's always like that, every time," the dwarf said moodily. "I have thrown them straight into the fire too – with no results."

"It seems Notung still has its secrets," Brünnhilde concluded. There was joy in her soul: so there was something magical and extraordinary preserved in her existence! She had started to fear that her previous life would soon completely fade into nothingness.

"I have noticed as much, thank you," replied Mime. "Perhaps you'll figure out how to put these halves back together?"

Brünnhilde sank in thought. She attempted to remember what her father had told her about the wondrous sword. But nothing came to mind except a few general phrases. For sure, Wotan hadn't intended to break Notung at all till the very last day, and after Siegmund's death Brünnhilde was immediately put into her enchanted sleep.

Someone chirped. The white bird, as it turned out, flew through the window and was now sitting on the smithery's doorstep, whistling excitedly. Mime, his mind on other things, waved her off, but she wasn't deterred a bit.

"She might know something of it," Brünnhilde said suddenly. "Wotan's ravens often fly in the woods of Midgard. And they're worse chatterboxes than magpies! What a pity I can't speak the language of the birds!"

The bird sat on one of Notung's halves, turned to Mime and shook her head. In her song, Brünnhilde thought, there were mocking notes. As in "The likes of you would never manage it!"

"You mean, Mime won't be able to reforge Notung?" asked Brünnhilde. The bird gave a chirp and flew onto her shoulder.

"I hope you're not hinting that I should do it?"

Another long mocking warble.

"Who, then? Siegfried, perhaps?" the Nibelung interrupted. The bird thought, whistled, and nodded.

"Damn it all!" Mime sprang. "I've tried teaching him forging, but he's completely unruly and lazy. He learned a bit and forgot all of it long ago. Are you saying he'll manage what I, Nibelheim's greatest smith, can't ever do?"

The bird nodded. If she hadn't been sitting on Brünnhilde's shoulder, her head nestled against the former Valkyrie's temple, Mime would have thrown at her a bucket or something equally heavy. Instead he banged his favorite hammer on the oven, so that the whole house shook with clatter. Siegfried, woken up, could be heard fussing upstairs

"You've disturbed the child," the former Valkyrie said scornfully. In response Mime burge with a whole long speech, where he wished among other things that Siegfried, Brünnhilde and the bird would be drowned by the Rhinemaidens, mauled and eaten by Fafner, and crushed under the hooves of Sleipnir, Wotan's steed.

The sleepy-looking Siegfried stood on the staircase, leaning over the rails:

"What's the matter? Which of you is murdering which?"

Then he saw the halves of Notung and yawned:

"Ah, another broken sword…"

With these words he went back to bed, and the forest bird began twittering again. Her breast swelled and her beak clattered, so much did she want to be understood.

"It gets worse every hour," said Mime, calming down a bit. "We may have to learn the birds' language. If only I knew how. Or could you call these ravens, Brünnhilde? They must be able to speak our tongue."

"They are, but they won't come to me. I'm in disgrace…"

The bird nodded yet once more and went on twittering. Mime sighed deeply and wanted to curse all over the hoard of the Nibelungs thar got him, an innocent dwarf, into such a mess.


	10. For Some or Other

Another three months went by. The rainy and muddy autumn gave way to a windy winter.

Both Mime and Brünnhilde several times tried to talk with Siegfried of the craft of forging, but the boy didn't want to hear about it. Although he stopped blaming the Nibelung that he didn't have a sword – it turned out that the blades from Gibich's castle bent and broke in Siegfried's hands just as well.

As frosts came, the travels to Gibich and his children became less frequent. Grane sank in the thick layer of snow that surrounded Mime's house, and as for Siegfried, after a particularly fierce snowstorm he couldn't go outside – he had to dig his way out like a mole.

At home Siegfried was at first bored and dejected, wandering from one room to another and thinking of how to occupy himself. But Brünnhilde quickly saw to that, and the days when he wasn't at his friends' were entirely dedicated to lessons. Sometimes Siegfried even helped Auntie and Mime with the chores.

But then there came a wonderfully quiet night followed by a clear day. As he saw that the snow outside wasn't higher than his knees, Siegfried woke up the whole house with his yells of joy. He swallowed the breakfast, hastily threw on his coat, and ran like the wind to the Rhine.

Now it was close to dusk, a new blizzard was starting, and there was no sign of Siegfried's return.

"Don't fuss," said Mime as he noticed that the former Valkyrie kept throwing worried glances at the window. "If the storm's a long one, he'll stay there until it ends."

"It might not end soon… Besides, how the poor kid is supposed to get home through the snowdrifts?"

"Well, send Grane to meet him if you like," the Nibelung suggested. And then there came a knock on the door.

"What was the whole hustle about?" Mime grunted, standing up. "Here he comes."

But it wasn't Siegfried, as they saw. A stranger in a long robe and a hat that hid one of his eye looked at the dwarf disdainfully:

"O host, will you grant a refuge to a lonely wanderer?"

Mime didn't have a chance to reply. Brünnhilde who had been watching the man suddenly rushed towards him, crying:

"Father!"

"Brünnhilde?" exclaimed the Wanderer who was Wotan, amazed. "You – here?"

"Brünnhilde is my wife," Mime informed him, thinking that he'd have to let the unwanted guest after all. Since he's relation…

But Wotan himself was obviously discouraged and wasn't so eager at all to come in.

"If you weren't seeking me, what do you want?" the girl realized she won't be greeted with a fond embrace, and her voice was instantly colder.

"I came from far away, having seen the whole world…"

Wotan used his tactic to distract a woman with talking while he'd think of what to answer her. He always did it when cornered by his wife. What could he say now – the truth? That he came to scare the living soul out of this miserable Nibelung?

The Wanderer was thinking of something else grandiloquent to say, when the white bird flew through the open door. She circled Wotan's head, whistling and twittering endlessly. The twitter seemed to be very offensive, as Wotan's face reddened:

"You pathetic excuse of a creature! Away with you!"

He raised his walking stick that hid a spear when Brünnhilde stepped forth.

"Have you come here merely to throw insults?" she cried, her voice ringing with anguish. "Then… then you'd better leave!"

Wotan, whom the bird called, to put it short, a greedy coward, a brainless boast and a shameless libertine, turned to his daughter:

"What's the matter with you? I don't recognize you, Brünnhilde!"

"And I don't recognize you!" she answered. "First you come for no reason at all, you don't even want to greet your own daughter, you refuse to say anything clearly and you try to kill the poor little birdie! As if you had no family feelings in your heart!"

"Traitress!" Wotan shouted. "You've always been one and still are!"

"Choose your words better, good wanderer. The laws of hospitality are all fine, but they don't give you the right to insult my wife!" a voice with a treacherous tremor suddenly came from behind his back. Wotan turned around and saw Mime, who had the time to run into the smithery and who was now raising a hammer above the visitor's head.

Brünnhilde desperately threw herself ahead as if she could prevent the fight. But Wotan had rightly guessed that his main goal, which was frightening Mime out of his wits by predicting his death, couldn't be accomplished anymore. He raised his hand:

"Calm down! I'm leaving! But you, dwarf, don't you hope to reforge my Notung! It can be forged only by him who knows no fear."

"I don't ne-e-eed it!" Mime yelled after him as he walked away and seemed to fade in the blizzard.

The dwarf put the hammer away and came to Brünnhilde. The girl was sitting on the bench and weeping, and the bird was flapping her wings in an attempt to dry her tears.

"I don't know what happened to my father," Brünnhilde whispered, sobbing. "Or to me perhaps? All my life I've been certain he's the most loving and understanding father in the world! Oh, why has he come here? To show how he despises me now?"

The bird shook her head and tried to explain what was Wotan's intent in reality. For the hundredth time, stroking her feathers, Brünnhilde sighed:

"Good, kind birdie! What a pity I can't understand your speech!"

Mime bent down and took her hands in his. She looked at him tearfully:

"Oh, how did you muster the courage to defend me?"

"You? It wasn't for you," Mime said quickly. "I simply don't tolerate impertinence in my own house."

Brünnhilde stood up and smiled as the dwarf instinctively curled up in fear.

"Mime, and if I want the truth?"

"If you want the truth, there was no courage in me at all!" he shouted. "As if you didn't see how I was shaking like a hare."

"Oh, you are indeed hopeless."

Yet some weight was lifted from the former Valkyrie's heart. She knew Mime well enough to know that he did in truth defend her. Of course the fact that he hated impertinence played its part too – but he stood for Brünnhilde. But what could bring Wotan to treat his former favorite daughter in such a way?

Tears welled in her eyes again.

"Brünnhilde, sit down, I don't want to break another table," said Mime.

"What petty thoughts," Brünnhilde remarked, but she sat and stretched her arms towards him. The dwarf climbed onto her knees, and her tearful face was against his shoulder.

"My overcoat will all get wet," Mime scolded her, at the same time holding her tight with one arm and gently stroking her hair. "Women!.. They always have to cry!"

"Mime, will you ever stop babbling sheer nonsense?"

"Hush… there now… no need to get so distressed for some Wotan or other…"

Soon during a short period of still Siegfried returned from the Gibichungs. Luckily for him the snow wasn't overly deep yet. Finally making it to the doorstep, the boy wanted to knock and found out that the door wasn't locked. Surprised – Mime was always afraid of darkness, cold drafts and wild beasts! – he peeked inside.

And, hardly suppressing a chuckle, he drew back and went to the back door that led to the smithery. He could get a nice view from the staircase too… It wasn't every day that one caught Mime and Auntie locked in an embrace, and Mime showering her with tender and passionate kisses…


	11. Carelessness and Talkativeness

Over the night the weather changed for the worse again. The blizzard outside was howling like a pack of wolves. Siegfried sat on the windowsill with the white bird and her chicks, all with sad looks.

"Instead of sitting here and wasting your time you might do a test instead," snapped Brünnhilde, laying the table for breakfast. "We'll see what has been left in your head from all my lessons."

"O-o-oh," Siegfried groaned.

"Afterwards you'll work in the smithery. Mime has complained again that you don't want to help him," added Brünnhilde in a voice that made it clear she wouldn't tolerate an argument.

"Auntie, you're too angry today," he concluded. She was unmoved:

"Take a plaque and write down the runes. Then you'll tell me all about the wars fought on the British Isles and list the rules of an honorable combat."

The boy grunted a bit more to himself but had to obey.

In fact Brünnhilde wasn't as much angry at her unruly nephew as at herself. She knew she ought to have been ashamed of her tenderness towards Mime last night, but she remembered it without any disgust – and it drove her crazy with rage.

Mime didn't bring up the subject. When he came down for breakfast he threw some offhand sarcastic remarks, as usual, at Brünnhilde and gloatingly reminded Siegfried of the awaiting work in the smithery. Just as he would on any other day.

Only when Siegfried sat in the corner and, biting the knife's handle in thought, began to cut the runes in a plaque, the Nibelung said quietly to Brünnhilde:

"I hope you won't make a habit of baby talk and cooing."

"Ha!" Brünnhilde said under her breath.

Mime nodded in understanding.

"Fine with me," he spat.

Brünnhilde was even a little hurt:

"Who used to sulk because I was cold with you?"

"It was during our first days when I didn't know what you are like," the dwarf said triumphantly.

She laughed. After all, it could be expected. Mime turned himself inside out to hide his weaknesses in front of the former Valkyrie, and love was undoubtedly counted as one of them. She could have teased him a bit more: asked him why, in this case, he came to her with sweet words and caresses yesterday. But it would have been way too risky, and Mime, if deeply offended, could start to ignore Brünnhilde completely… She didn't want it at all.

"I'm finished!" Siegfried cried. Brünnhilde gave Mime a playful slap and turned her attention to her nephew. Soon he was standing before her and sombrely reciting the history of battles fought on the British Isles. The white bird together with her younglings twittered him the correct hints, but of course he understood none of it.

Mime quickly grew bored with listening to this and went to the smithery as usual. He took the ill-fated fragments of Notung out of the hiding place and admired their dim gray sheen.

"Maybe I should give Siegfried these to forge right now?" he thought. "If the bird has heard from Wotan's ravens that no one else can do it, and Wotan himself confirmed it... The boy alone has no notion of fear. Let him restore his papa's sword, defeat the dragon, and I'll get a peaceful life at last..."

But then it struck him that even with the magic sword Siegfried was still a child, smaller than himself. Fafner's head alone was as large as two dozen dwarfs. What if the boy'd be killed?

The Nibelung was shocked with himself – not long ago he had dreamed that both Siegfried and Fafner would die in their battle. But now?.. His imagination, meanwhile, gave him an even worse outcome: what if the foolish hotheaded Brünnhilde would run to save the child, and Fafner devoured her too?

Mime shook his head decisively and put Notung back under the floor. Thank you very much. He had been waiting for long – he could wait another ten or fifteen years. All was better than to be doomed to loneliness again.

That's how it happened that Siegfried, after stoically suffering through Brünnhilde's questions, spent his evening making new horseshoes for Grane. He didn't like it one bit, and Brünnhilde couldn't help but say:

"Siegfried, weapons are not everything. Someday Grane will be yours. Or you'll have some other horse – doesn't matter. But what use will you make of it if it goes limp? As the saying goes – 'for want of a nail a shoe was lost...'".

The danger of Grane limping reconciled Siegfried with the boring work. But when he went to bed, Brünnhilde herself demanded explanations from Mime:

"Why didn't you let him take a chance forging the sword?"

Mime wasn't very willing to reply:

"Well... Why? Why do you think? Because this young idiot won't wait until you teach him the world history of warfare. The instant he gets the sword he'll fight the dragon and, most probably, die very fast. Even if he swings Notung a few times before that."

He didn't tell her he was afraid for her as well. He was sure that Brünnhilde, every bit as proud as himself, would be extremely vexed.

Once more days went by without any noticeable incidents. However, the inhabitants of the forest hut weren't bored: gone were the previous winters when the weary Siegfried did nothing but exhaust Mime with his whims. It could be truthfully said that the odd little family had a pleasant – one might even say cheerful – time.

One day, though, in the beginning of spring Siegfried started whining about his absent sword again. After brief consideration, Mime and Brünnhilde decided to tell him about his true parents and the sword he had inherited – but firmly said that Siegfried would forge it only after he got learned and matured.

"Why?" the boy pouted. "Gunther has a sword already, why not me too?"

"The more precious the sword, the more time you need to wait for it," said Mime with a highly moral air.

Siegfried cheered up immediately. In a couple of hours they went to Gibich's castle, and while Mime and Brünnhilde were talking to the adults, they heard Siegfried's voice:

"Did you know? It turns out I do have a sword, left to me by my real father. I only need to forge it anew... Nobody else can do it but me!"

The dwarf and Brünnhilde exchanged alarmed looks. Clenching their teeth they silently hoped Siegfried would shut his mouth.

The hope was soon dashed. The boy, seeing that his friends and even Hagen were listening with rapt attention, grew only more excited:

"The sword's name is Notung, and I'll kill the dragon with it and get the magical hoard for Mime and Auntie. There! But I need to learn lots of thing before I'm allowed to forge it."

Brünnhilde barely suppressed a groan. When the kids came to dinner, she noticed Hagen wasn't acting aloof anymore. Quite the contrary – Alberich's son was by Siegfried's side, chattering with him like with his best friend.

Neither Gibich, Grimhild, nor their children suspected anything. _Quite_ the contrary, they didn't hide their joy that Hagen, the black sheep of their family, had finally started to act like a normal boy.

But at night in the forest hut there was a new serious discussion.

"It's been long since we sat into the night like this," chuckled Mime, lighting the candles.

"Yes," nodded Brünnhilde, nervously walking around the room. "In the autumn we decided to leave everything as it was and not worry about Hagen – and here you go."

"If this is genuine friendship then I'm Alberich," said the dwarf with disgust. "But Siegfried won't listen to that!"

"There's no need to tell him," said Brünnhilde suddenly. "Don't make the boy grow up as suspicious as yourself. I think we should do something else."

"Track down my dear brother again?"

"I don't know... With your height... He can hide in any tiny bush."

"Exactly. Besides, Alberich's terribly clever. He'll slip through our hands. It seems the best will be to ask the Rhinemaidens for advice, as you have wanted, as far as I remember. They'll know how to avoid bloodshed for the ring. It's their ring, after all."

"What do I hear! What about the Nibelungs' hoard?" Brünnhilde teased him.

"The hoard and the helm are ours, but the ring belongs to these ladies."

"What have you come to!.." the former Valkyrie mockingly rolled her eyes. "Don't you want it anymore?"

Mime was lost for words. To his astonishment he realized his wife was right. Now, when he thought of what to do with Hagen, he was concerned first and foremost for her and Siegfried's safety, and the Rhinegold ring seemed more like an annoying holdback.

"The helm's enough for me..." he murmured uncertainly.

Brünnhilde smiled sweetly and gave him a peck on the forehead.


	12. Daughters of the Rhine

March was warm that year, the ice on the Rhine had broken and started drifting a week earlier, and this time Mime and Brünnhilde decided to accomplish their plan without delay.

"Tomorrow I'll go and speak to the maidens," Mime said.

"We'll go," Brünnhilde corrected him.

"But Grimhild wanted you to take care of the children – she has left for a fortnight to visit her sister..."

"They'll manage for a day or two, it's more important. There's a hundred maidservants in the castle, and I'm not a nanny," after hesitation the former Valkyrie gave the true reason for her idea. "And who can let a man go alone to the Rhinedaughters? Even Gibich, who's as firm as stone in his faithfulness to Grimhild, was in love with one of them in his youth, and A..." she bit her tongue: it wasn't wise to remind Mime of Alberich too often.

Mime, who hadn't noticed the last slip, gripped her hand:

"Jealous?"

In the beginning of winter Brünnhilde would have answered with some sarcastic joke, but now she looked down on her husband and clutched his hand in turn. Of course she was no less proud than him and she'd never admit it out loud... But deep down she knew the Nibelung was right. She couldn't bear the thought that one of these curly-haired Rhine coquettes would entrance Mime as Alberich before him... Not in her life! If they dare even try, even think of it, they would pay.

Mime smiled happily. He didn't want to go the Rhine alone at all, but he wanted Brünnhilde to confess that she wanted to go with him and that she was jealous of the Rhinemaidens. Well, she didn't confess it straight, but she didn't deny it either, and that was an achievement.

"We should sit like this in the evenings more often," he murmured quietly, afraid that Brünnhilde would hear, as they both went to their rooms to sleep. After years of Alberich's oppression, and then of living completely alone or with Siegfried, Mime hadn't imagined before that Brünnhilde's company could be so pleasant. It weren't only her beauty and the rare occasions that his wife actually allowed him to be close with her. The dwarf felt that the happiest hours of their extraordinary married life were these nighttime talks, no matter whether it was a sarcastic battle of wits, a worried discussion of Siegfried's future or a seldom occurring heart-to-heart talk.

"And I don't need the Rhinedaughters, not the tiniest bit," he mouthed, as if ashamed of himself, as he came into his bedroom.

The restless white bird had obviously been listening at the window once again. Because in the morning, together with her grown nestlings, she woke up Mime, and Brünnhilde, and Siegfried together with them, when before dawn she started such a ruckus and whistle and twitter that half of the forest must have been roused.

At breakfast Mime, sleepy and angry, shook his fist at the white-feathered family that was calmly sitting on the windowsill and still singing, if a bit quieter.

"Siegfried will kill you with stones and Brünnhilde will fry you on a pan!" he promised. They replied with a twitter that sounded dangerously like a laugh. The Nibelung groaned:

"Outrageous! Brünnhilde, do you know – every single one of these grown chicks is making a nest in the same tree! We'll soon grow deaf with them... It's all your fault! You've fed them! They aren't afraid of anything."

"It's all the better if many brave creatures are around you," said Brünnhilde instructively.

"The brave ones will end up in someone's jaws," snapped Mime. "The wise ones sit at home..."

"Are you hinting I must go to the Rhine alone while my wise husbands remains here?" she asked with interest.

"...But the wisest ones are fit to look after the bravehearts," finished the Nibelung triumphantly. "If I'm not nearby, you, with your stupid courage, will turn into Fafner's meal or fall into the Rhine. You need an escort."

Siegfried laughed to himself. That's why he hadn't been able to understand what was fear! It seemed to be the unwillingness to fight the cunning and the evil – Mime was always saying it's like that... But whenever Auntie Brünnhilde wanted to go anywhere, Mime appeared by her side at a moment – as he said, just for the reason that he was frightened almost of everything and she almost of nothing.

The boy couldn't make heads or tails of this.

"Siegfried," Brünnhilde turned to him. "Mime and I have to leave. I don't know for how long. It's possible we'll be away for a whole day or for several days, I don't know..." Mime stared at her wide-eyed, and she mouthed to him: "We might stumble into Alberich".

"No problem," said Siegfried. "Where are you going?"

"I'll tell you later. Now, go to the Gibichungs on Grane, tell them that we've left and that you'll stay with them for a while. Take care that Grane will be fed and kept in a good stall."

"But Auntie, I can stay here too."

"Aren't you afraid?" Mime wanted to know.

"I don't know what afraid feels like," the boy said honestly, and the Nibelung mumbled something to himself.

"Don't argue," Brünnhilde said sharply. "If you aren't worried about yourself, think of the horse. Some dishonest servants of Gibich's could have spotted him. Even you won't be able to defend him if horse thieves come at night.

"Auntie..."

"Enough! You're a brave little chicken, but you're not six yet. Trying to do something you aren't ready for isn't heroism, quite the contrary."

This moral reached its goal, as expected. Besides, Siegfried wasn't at all against sleeping over at his friends'. Especially without Mime and Brünnhilde to watch over him. They would be able to play in the garden till nighttime! And then maybe have supper with the grownups, in the dining-hall with candles! And nobody would forbid them to climb the tallest trees and take Gutrune with them – the overly fussing Grimhild was away as well!

Finally, Siegfried was always glad to have a ride on Grane's back.

He wished Mime and Brünnhilde good luck with their plans, jumped into the saddle with a heroic look and galloped forward. Brünnhilde didn't worry about the wild boy: she knew Grane would never let his little master fall, either intentionally or by accident.

* * *

Cold wind blew from the river. The foaming stream now carried only few small ice-cakes. Under the thickly clouded early morning sky the Rhine looked almost coal black.

"Well, where are the maidens?" the Nibelung looked around. "They can be many miles away."

"No, I know something about them," the former Valkyrie shook her head. "This rock – the Lorelei Rock, I think, it's called – is the very place where they come out. They live underneath it, too."

"Fine, and how are we going to fish them out?" in the cold Mime's mood, not particularly sunny to begin with, worsened even more. "Will they hear us if we call?"

"We don't need to. They come out at dawn."

"Why did this bird need to wake us so early?" groaned Mime. "Why do we have to sit here and wait? And what about Siegfried? I can imagine how the hosts feel when a guest comes at this time of the day..."

He grumbled and complained, but time passed. The sky was quickly getting lighter. Though neither the dwarf nor Brünnhilde were sleepy anymore they almost missed the Rhinedaughters' arrival. Only splashes coming from below brought them back to reality. Narrowing her eyes and looking closely at the whirling white foam, Brünnhilde waved her hand in greeting:

"Hey! Woglinde! Wellgunde! Flosshilde! Good morning to you!"

She and Mime came down from the rock they had been sitting on to the water, and the Rhinemaidens swam to them. The three girls looked blankly at the visitors.

Since Alberich had robbed them of their gold, the sorrow had affected not only the maidens' mood, but their looks as well. The hair, tail and dress of each of them used to have its own color. Woglinde's were silvery, Wellgunde's were emerald, and Flosshilde's were purple. Now each had mouse-colored braids, a gray cloak, and a barely sparkling gray tail that didn't differ from a trout's one but in size.

"What do you need?" asked Flosshilde, the eldest. She glanced at Mime and grimaced, recognizing a Nibelung. Brünnhilde hurried to interrupt:

"We need your advice, good maidens, on how to return the magic ring to the Rhine."

"Return? The ring?" the blank eyes shone again. "Dear, dear girl, we'll help you in whatever you wish if you only do it!"

"If you think of it at first, it's not so hard," Brünnhilde went on. "Wait till Siegfried grows up, give him the enchanted sword to forge and send him to fight the dragon. Fafner won't stand a chance, his hoard will go back to the Nibelungs, and the ring to you.

"But, first, the ring's cursed. Do you know that?"

"Sure," Woglinde sighed. "Loge told us."

"Then you see. I don't know, for example, how to lift the curse. Second: even if the ring does return to you, Alberich and Hagen won't stop hunting it. Alberich has renounced love already, and for Hagen, I gather, it won't be too difficult... how can we protect the gold against new thieves?"

"But Hagen's still a child..." Flosshilde began.

"We see what sort of a child he is," Mime said grimly. "Gives one the shivers. He's already set his eye on Fafner's treasures."

"Exactly," Brünnhilde gave the Rhinemaidens an imploring look. "Perhaps if the curse vanishes he and Alberich won't be able to steal the gold again – but how can we get rid of it?"


	13. Quite Some Meeting

The Rhinemaidens thought. Flosshilde tentatively suggested:

"Make Alberich deny his words?"

"Not funny," was Mime's laconic answer.

"Maybe the curse will lift itself when the ring's back in the Rhine?" Brünnhilde asked hopefully.

"We don't know," whimpered Woglinde. "It must be so. But Alberich and Hagen will creep down here and renounce love again!"

"We must ensure they won't renounce it after the ring returns," Wellgunde concluded.

"Are you suggesting we marry them off?" chuckled Brünnhilde.

"Why not, after all? Look at this Mime of yours – you have woken up less than a year ago, and see how he has changed!"

"You're well informed about the goings-on on dry land," Mime said quickly. He didn't like where the conversation was drifting.

"Loge told us," the maidens explained in unison. Brünnhilde merely shrugged at that. Wotan said once that the Rhinedaughters were awfully vexed at Loge, as they believed he had broken his promise to return them their gold, it looked like they had reconciled pretty well since then. No wonder. The mischievous ruler of flames could charm any female of any race at his wish, from Freia to the last hunchbacked dwarf woman.

"Alright, thank you, this one was a nice joke too," said Brünnhilde. "We'll have difficulties finding brides for them. Considering that Hagen is still a long way from maturity… No, both he and his father need love like a horse needs a second tail."

"Love isn't necessarily spousal," Flosshilde argued and shot a meaningful glance at Mime. "The love between members of a family…"

Mime was enraged:

"You think that I? Should make peace? With him? Our white bird will sooner forge Notung than I take even a step towards peace – or than Alberich apologizes to me!"

"Alberich's wandering somewhere around here," continued the eldest Rhinemaiden, as if she hadn't heard him. "Mostly he keeps watch by Fafner's cave, but even he needs to stretch his legs once a day. You can easily find him."

"Good luck," sang the maidens together, splashed their tails against the waves and vanished underwater.

'Hey, you, wait!" shouted Brünnhilde, but in vain.

She and the dwarf dejectedly went to the forest. Mime was keeping on:

"These girls' heads are empty, or filled with water, I don't know – but they certainly have no brains! I'll push Alberich off a cliff at the first opportunity, and they're saying that our brotherly love can save the ring from being stolen anew! I have never heard such foolishness!"

His wife let him speak it all out, and then she stopped and calmly said:

"Mime, I've noticed one thing about you: you're always dead sure you're right. Even when you speak of the future. I don't think it's all bad, but you keep throwing around forecasts that don't come true every time."

"You do so too," the Nibelung spat. He didn't go any further on that, though – the only time he could think of when Brünnhilde's foresight failed was when she angrily promised never to be his wife in truth.

"It's you we're talking about, not me! How many times did you say last summer that you only tolerate Siegfried and me, that I'm a useless burden and Siegfried's a hooligan and a rascal?"

"It was true," Mime tried to defend himself. But Brünnhilde, who had thought it all over while he had been pouring out his rage, didn't give up:

"Who said that his acquisition of the ring is only a matter of time? Who assured me that he suffers all the misery and misfortune only for the ring's sake? Yesterday evening, though, you admitted you'll be quite content with the helm! Who used to dream (oh, don't give me that look of a betrayed innocent!) that Siegfried and Fafner will both perish, and now doesn't want to let Siegfried fight until he's grown?"

"What are you hinting at?" the dwarf asked suspiciously.

"That we haven't thought about it. You can try and reconcile with Alberich."

Mime opened his mouth for a new tirade, but Brünnhilde raised her hand warningly:

"Don't interrupt, my dear. Even by your standards both of you aren't young anymore, it's not the age when you can quarrel with your family and ignore them for years."

"Have you forgotten what I've told you about Alberich's treatment of me?"

"I remember. Still," the woman went on softly, "you can at least attempt a reconciliation. Think that if... when we return the ring back to the Rhine, Alberich will be left without anything to live for."

"How incredibly touching," Mime grunted.

"He'll die of sorrow, completely alone."

"I don't care!" the dwarf grimaced. "Let him die! For all his tortures and bullying it's not punishment enough! While I've been sitting alone in my hut for twenty years like a dried mushroom, did he remember me once?"

"Mime, but consider..."

"Brünnhilde, I'm telling you: stop talking of that," Mime even seemed to grow a bit taller. "Actually, what's happened to you lately that made you so eager to moralize?"

"A lot has happened," smiled Brünnhilde. "Do you think it's a small change for a proud Valkyrie to be turned into a soup-cooking and pot-cleaning wife of a sarcastic..." Mime tried to give her a flick on the nose, but didn't reach it and missed, "grumbly..." Mime shook his fist at her and she stepped back, "cowardly..." he scoffed in irritation, "dwarf? You know, I had to revise my views of life a little."

Mime wanted to ask her why she wouldn't, with her new high morals, make peace with her own family first, but decided against it. The wound after the winter incident with Wotan was still fresh in Brünnhilde's heart. She had been deeply hurt by her father's insults, it took Mime a pretty long time to console her...

In the meantime Brünnhilde realized she couldn't persuade the Nibelung. But she had spoken the truth to him. After she woke up to a new life in every sense of the word, cozy family happiness and blissful peace had become much dearer to her than cold pride, blood revenge and self-sacrifice.

"I'll speak with Alberich myself," she decided.

"What are you talking of? It's too dangerous!" Mime exclaimed and was immediately embarrassed. Brünnhilde ignored it and suggested:

"Then why don't you go with me? One of the reasons we went together at all was that we could meet Alberich by accident."

"Accidents are another thing, we could have just as easily met a pack of wolves – accidentally. Brünnhilde," Mime was serious as never before, "listen, I can do many things, but there is something I won't allow. I can't permit you to go to Alberich alone, and all the more I won't go myself."

"Why are you afraid for me? I have Grane; in case of anything I'll easily run away."

"Brünnhilde, are you hoping to awake family feeling in him? It's hopeless, I assure you. He thinks of nothing else but the ring."

"By the way, less than a year ago you, too, thought of nothing else but the ring."

Mime gave up:

"Fine, do as you like. I've warned you. Let's go to the Gibichungs and retrieve Grane."

* * *

In the evening Brünnhilde rode on Grane's back and in the company of her faithful white birds to continue playing peacemaker. She could have gone earlier, but during daytime Fafner could crawl out to drink from the pond. The gigantic dragon was one of the few creatures (if not the only one) that Grane couldn't outrun. Only maybe in the times when the stallion could fly...

Alberich was by the dragon's cave. Wrapped into a dirty yellow robe, he was sitting on a stone near the entrance, grim, with a face that deep wrinkles made uglier than it was. In front of the enormous entrance to the cave he looked pathetic. Brünnhilde cringed at the thought that such a thing could take over the world. Mime even at their first meeting wasn't that repulsive... He was never repulsive... The former Valkyrie smiled and instantly scolded herself: she had an important task ahead of her and she couldn't afford to get distracted.

"Who goes there?" Alberich rose.

Grane came to the meadow, and Brünnhilde jumped from the saddle.

"Quite some meeting," the Nibelung's face contorted. "Wotan's spawn! What do you want here?"

"I'm not here to discuss what my father has done," trying at least to seem unperturbed, said Brünnhilde. "I've come to you first and foremost not as Wotan's daughter but as Mime's wife."

"Ah, Hagen told me about you," Alberich admitted. "Well, what of it? I don't care who's married to my idiot of a brother. Although I understand! Has he sent you for the treasure? It's impossible to win it. But you can try. I'll watch it; Fafner hasn't had much of a supper today."

"Alberich, I'm not going to fight Fafner. As you see, I'm weaponless, and I'm not going suicidal just yet. I didn't come for it. I want you and Mime to stop being enemies."

At the very least, the whole journey wasn't made for nothing – the expression on Alberich's face was simply priceless.


	14. Talks are No Use

After a short pause Alberich said, loudly and distinctly, as if he was speaking to an old woman who had lost her senses:

"I hope I got it all right. You've come here to reconcile me with my brother?"

"Exactly," said Brünnhilde cheerfully, suppressing the urge to laugh at Alberich's astonished face. His eyes were like saucers, his mouth open and twisted into an odd suspicious smirk… He looked just like the dwarfs from comic scary stories that Freia liked to tell the Valkyries when they were little.

As he recovered a bit, Alberich picked up a nearby stone in warning:

"I don't know which one of you had gone completely mad, but I caution you once: leave safely while you still can."

When he saw Brünnhilde wasn't in a hurry to get on horseback, he threw the stone at her. But he had underestimated the former Valkyrie. Who better than her could dodge stones and arrows in battle?

She dodged the second stone just as easily. The third one was beaten away by Grane's hoof and hit Alberich in the leg. The dwarf bent down with pain.

"You're very nimble, Alberich, but you won't defeat me in honest battle," Brünnhilde concluded.

The Nibelung looked at her hatefully, clutching his leg:

"All right. I'll be polite. My dear good-sister, go home to my brother – at once!"

"I'm in no hurry. Besides, Mime doesn't need the ring anymore."

"Or he doesn't need to breath anymore, better to say!" Alberich said acidly. "I saw through you at once. Everyone, every single one of you wants nothing but the treasure hoard. Don't even hope while I'm alive!"

Brünnhilde sighed: she understood that the Nibelung had sunk so deep into his madness that he thought everybody wanted the dragon's treasure most of all.

"Then why do you encourage your son to get the ring?" she asked quietly. "Leave Hagen be. It will be for the better, for both of you."

"I'm weak… he'll take my ring and give it to me!" hissed Alberich.

"I have no doubt he'll take it at the first opportunity. But I'm not at all sure he'll give it to you."

The dwarf gave his guest an uncomprehending look.

Brünnhilde sighed again:

"Alberich, Alberich. Don't you remember your own curse? If Hagen has the ring, he'll allow you to take it over his dead body."

"Then I _will_ take it over Hagen's dead body!" Alberich yelled furiously. "Did you think to move me with touching tales so that I'd relinquish the whole hoard to my brother! Away with you! Now!"

As the former Valkyrie didn't expect such a sudden outrage and she was currently standing far away from her fast horse, he threw a new stone at her. This time he certainly would have hit her head or neck, if not for something falling under her feet and causing her to fall. The stone disappeared in the bushes. The attack had failed: Grane immediately stood on guard with his leg raised.

The timely "something" that had pushed Brünnhilde turned out to be no one else but Mime. Despite his fierce refusal to go to Alberich, the younger Nibelung couldn't let Brünnhilde leave alone and quickly found a way to avoid it. He secretly left the house before the former Valkyrie, and, as Grane walked at a steady pace, Mime was near the cave almost at the same time as his wife.

Seeing his brother on top of everything else, Alberich lost the last of his temper. His eyes, red from the lack of sleep, lit up dangerously:

"If you don't take your blasted beast and leave right now, I'll wake Fafner!" he threatened. It was enough for Mime to climb with incredible speed on Grane's back. Brünnhilde, too, sadly had to admit that further attempts at peace-making were worthless.

They galloped away; Grane only slowed down by the house's door.

Mime noticed that Brünnhilde frowned and lowered her eyes – a sure sign that she was trying not to cry.

"Now, don't, the thing's not worth it," he said as they got down. "You assured me that you've changed during your life on earth – but in one sense you remain the same. You firmly believe in your power of persuasion. See, the fact that you've taken Siegfried's upbringing into your hands doesn't mean at all that you can intimidate Alberich. He's too tough. You won't get far with your moralizing talk."

Brünnhilde nodded wordlessly. Some time later she explained to Mime the reason for her particular bitterness after this defeat:

"You know, I hoped I could influence Alberich because he's, well, your brother… I thought you're similar deep down."

" _Extremely_ deep down if anything," commented the dwarf.

"The Rhinemaidens did say that you… since I…" her cheeks went pink. She was as eager as Mime to avoid the topic of their relationship.

"The main difference between my brother and myself is that he has renounced love and I haven't," said Mime. "Especially after the theft of the ring – he didn't even need lust so much, he bribed Grimhild because he needed a son and minion… While I… well, you know."

"That's clear, but what can we do with the ring's curse?" exclaimed the former Valkyrie. "We've spent so many months trying to find out how to get rid of it!"

"It seems we have no solution. We'll have to wait till Siegfried becomes so skilled in forging that he'll be able to reforge Notung. I hope we won't wait _overly_ long."

"I still can't get used to the idea that you Nibelungs solve every problem with fights."

"Not just fights. One can use magic," Mime shuddered, remembering the short but dreadful time when Alberich was in possession of the ring and oppressed all the Nibelungs and him in particular. "Main thing is, we don't like listening to moral sentiments like your distinguished folk."

Brünnhilde realized Mime was right. After all, he hadn't heard from her a single moral like the ones she tried on Alberich. Strange as it was, her talk with Mime mostly consisted of exchange of biting retorts – why, then, did the dwarf change so much during their life together? She had no reasonable explanation.

"Listen, you know what?" she said after thinking a while more. "If we had no luck with Alberich we can do something with Hagen."

"Put him into a bag and drown?" Mime asked hopefully.

" _Mime_!"

"Settle him on a bench and start talking about Virtue until he goes crazy or complains to his father?"

"No! The point of my idea is that we'll do nothing. We'll treat Hagen like a perfectly normal child."

"Amazing!" Mime rolled his eyes.

"You can snark all you like, but let me speak. Hagen's a thorn in everyone's side. We all try not to notice him the harder, the more he stands out. But you and I won't explain his moodiness as shyness like Grimhild always does. We'll act as if he was like everybody else."

Mime cringed.

"Don't make a face. You're always giving him murderous glances."

"You recoil from him," the dwarf countered.

"I'll try and quit that too. Perhaps if Hagen becomes less distanced from his family and from us, he won't be influenced by Alberich so easily."

"Another silly idea of yours, but let's try out of curiosity," Mime said. "But I don't promise to feed him cakes and call him my dearest nephew."

"If you started to do that, he'd have suspected something at once," laughed Brünnhilde.

They sent Grane back to the Gibichungs – there was a thunderstorm coming, Siegfried was possibly going to stay the night at the castle, but it would be better if he had a chance to return. Brünnhilde strictly forbade the clever stallion to snort at Hagen or kick him. Grane who felt his masters' disdain towards the little half-dwarf didn't fancy him either, and it was obvious

Grane looked at his mistress with surprise – what had gotten into her who had never hidden her dislike? – and ran forth.

"Hagen's tutorial in fair play begins," said Mime who was reparing some saucepans in the smithery. But Brünnhilde was doubtful again.

"What if this fails too?" she asked sadly, looking at the evening sky.

"Then Siegfried will chop off both their heads when he grows up. Or I'll do it, for example," said Mime brightly. The image of him chopping someone's heads was once more enough for Brünnhilde to cheer up instantly and say that Mime wouldn't have courage to even swing the sword. Mime answered he wouldn't need one – there are other ways, he had spoken to her of pushing from a cliff. He didn't remind her that in winter he was quite brave enough to swing his hammer at Wotan.

"You'll sooner hide under that cliff yourself, curled up in fright," Brünnhilde argued with certainty. Mime took a saucepan with a warning look, and the former Valkyrie, laughing, armed herself with a shovel.

Life had returned to normal.


	15. The Hand-to-Hand Fight

Three years went by without anything of notice. One fine spring morning, looking at the nestlings of the new white birds' generation, Brünnhilde was herself astonished how quickly time had passed. Siegfried, Gunther and Hagen grew up, Gutrune from a cooing infant turned into a inquisitive little girl with a mass of curly hair. The adults had changed less, and the non-human Mime and Brünnhilde looked just as several years earlier.

In the forest hut life hadn't changed a bit. Every day Siegfried studied in the morning, and then ran to his friends, or – in winter – dragged himself to the smithery. The devoted Grane often accompanied the boy, and the latter slowly learned real horse riding. The tree under the window of Brünnhilde's bedroom was still populated by the noisy flock of birds.

As for Mime and Brünnhilde themselves, their relationship too remained pretty much the same. From dawn to dusk the hut was shaking from their fiery squabbles. The quiet hours were rare – since that meeting with W the family tried not to mention the Rhinegold or anything concerning it.

The dwellers of the forest hut treated Hagen, as they had agreed, like a normal kid, as if they didn't see his sulky and morose nature. Hagen was in any case friendly with Siegfried (or pretended to be), and Mime and Brünnhilde with heavy heart tried to talk to him cordially. At first Hagen glanced at them suspiciously, but later on he himself became much more open and cheerful. Brünnhilde noticed that Alberich's son got used to calling her and Mime Aunt and Uncle.

Mime hated it. When alone with Brünnhilde he poured out his heart:

"This child gets more like Alberich with every year! Why must I coo to him?"

"You aren't cooing. We talk to him like to Gunther or Gutrune."

"A good comparison indeed! Gunther and Gutrune are excellent children, while Hagen..."

"Hagen what? He calls you Uncle already."

"And looks so alberichy that it makes me sick!"

"Mime, it's not his fault he has inherited the looks..."

Anyway, Hagen's character did at least seem to improve, thanks to Brünnhilde's idea, and even Mime realized it. But he harbored no family feeling that the Rhinemaidens had hoped for – either for his nephew or for his brother. He had long admitted to himself that he had fallen in love with Brünnhilde and grown fond of Siegfried and of the kind-hearted Gibichungs, but the Nibelung hated Alberich and Hagen with all the passion he could muster.

That April day began just as usual. Siegfried covered another wooden plaque with carvings of runes, listened to Brünnhilde's history of the wars of Archaic Greece and ran to the castle, splashing through the puddles left from yesterday's rain. Mime started nailing Grane – during the winter the steed had been idle, but soon the land will get dry and everyone will ride him again. Brünnhilde decide to do a major seasonal cleaning-up. Grane's solemn head looked out of the smithery at his mistress, his eyes full of reproach – though almost four years had passed since their awakening, he still wasn't used to a Valkyrie having become a housewife.

"Gibich told me yesterday he wants to take the children to visit a relation of his in Saragossa, for two or three weeks," said Mime, not looking up from his work. "He offered to take Siegfried too if we agree."

"Saragossa?" Brünnhilde asked with interest. "Not a bad idea, you know. Healthy air and beautiful sights. I'd be glad to go there…"

"But he only meant Siegfried!" Mime corrected her.

"Who'll forbid me to come with him? He's too small to go alone!"

"I will forbid," the dwarf declared proudly. "Personally, I don't want to go to some unknown faraway land, especially since Gibich's relation has no relation with us. Siegfried runs around on his own all day long, and he's quite independent."

Brünnhilde wanted to ask him why he can't let her go there, but thought better of it. She wouldn't be happy at all to part with Mime for many weeks. How would he manage without her? What if Alberich pulled some trick? Or Fafner attacked, who knows…

But it didn't mean she'd let the boy go without them, even in the care of old friends. Brünnhilde was thinking how to persuade Mime to leave his anvil and see the world for a while, when suddenly quick footsteps of a child sounded outside.

Strange: Siegfried never returned from the Gibichungs' before sunset. He had not once quarreled with them, so this early homecoming meant one of two things: either there were some other guests in the castle or someone was sick.

Brünnhilde looked out of the window and was even more surprised: it was Gunther, not Siegfried.

"Hello, Gunther!" she waved to him, smiling. "What's happened?"

"Good morning to you... Oh, my lady Brünnhilde, can you imagine?" the boy ran to the window. "Can you imagine? Siegfried's had a fight with Hagen!"

The former Valkyrie and Mime who came out of the smithery exchanged glances. There you have it.

"Why?" asked Brünnhilde, opening the door and coming to the yard.

"I don't know... I only left for a moment, and when I came back they already fighting! Gutrune and I tried to calm them down, but to no avail. And Father and Mother aren't home today. Then they calmed down by themselves, walked apart, and right now they're sitting in the corners and not speaking at all."

"Mime, are the horseshoes ready?" Brünnhilde turned to the Nibelung. The latter nodded and walked back into the smithery:

"Almost, there's only a small bit left."

"Rest a while, and then we'll go together and see to this matter," she told Gunther and put the kettle to boil. In the spring it's very easy to catch a cold after a long run. Luckily Brünnhilde had a supply of sweet-amber brew.

Soon, just after Gunther had drunk, at Brünnhilde's insistence, a cup of hot herbal infusion, Mime appeared to announce that Grane's ready to go to the end of the world if necessary.

All three of them quickly saddled the steed. Grane humbly suffered through it, especially since Mime and Gunther didn't weigh too much. As usual, he sensed the worry of his masters and started immediately with a gallop.

In the castle everything was pretty much the same as when Gunther had run away to the forest hut. In one corner of the garden sat Siegfried, listlessly breaking some wooden stick into pieces. In the opposite corner, between the branches of his favorite chokecherry tree, Hagen, a scowl on his face, was cracking nuts and throwing the shells in all directions. The distressed Gutrune was running from one to the other, obviously trying to make peace.

"Hey, Siegfried!" Brünnhilde, a bit at a loss at the sight, shook her nephew by the shoulder. "What do I hear? You fought?"

"He started it first," Siegfried argued.

"It's a lie!" came from the chokecherry.

"He said you and Mime only raise me so that I would get you the treasure!"

"He said that I'm a deformed monster and no one can tolerate me!"

"He said..."

"Silence, both of you!" shouted Brünnhilde. The boys grew quiet. "Gunther, Gutrune, tell us after all, what were you talking of before the fight?"

Slowly but steadily the story of the incident was reconstructed. It occurred so that the children talked of Fafner and his treasures, and once more everybody began to plan what better to do with the hoard and with the ring in particular. Opinions varied about what happened next. Even the Gibichungs had forgotten whether it was Siegfried or Hagen who started the squabble. But everyone agreed that Hagen did indeed say that Siegfried's foster parents only waited for him to kill the dragon, and Siegfried said that Hagen only thought of getting the ring because his head couldn't contain more than one thought. One insult led to another, and so it came to the fight.

"A fine reason you've found for brawling!" scoffed Mime. "You know yourselves you've told each other heaps of nonsense."

"Well, it's the truth what I've said about Siegfried," Hagen replied. "Alberich explained."

"An exemplar of truthfulness indeed!" the Nibelung said furiously. "Of course Alberich would tell loads of balderdash about me."

"Balderdash?.." Hagen was genuinely startled. "So you _don't_ need Siegfried only to get the treasure?"

"Of course not!" Siegfried interrupted all of a sudden, taking Brünnhilde and Mime's hands.

"Of course not," repeated Mime, nodding. "Especially considering that the most important part of the treasure will be returned to its rightful owners."

Hagen looked dreadfully pathetic. There was no doubt that the boy had taken Alberich's teachings to be the perfect truth.

"What _is_ all this about?" tentatively asked Gutrune who had been silent before. Brünnhilde smiled at her and her brother – both were awkwardly standing aside:

"Tell the servants to lay the table. Let's have a light repast, and I'll explain everything."

"No, _I_ will explain," Mime corrected her, and Siegfried, forgetting his grudge, laughed in anticipation of another of Mime and Auntie's spectacular quarrels.


	16. A Division Problem

The meal was served inside the castle, because the sky had become covered with rain clouds and the early-spring humidity was immediately felt. After some discussion – with mutual snarky gibes, of course – Mime and Brünnhilde decided on the seemingly best way to tell the story of the magic ring so that the children would understand everything clearly but Hagen wouldn't be too depressed. Hagen was already looking pitiful – and Brünnhilde understood him: she had felt about the same way several years before, in the fateful wintry night when she had quarrelled with her father. All his life the half-dwarf had thought Alberich's words to be absolutely truthful, and now they tried to convince him otherwise.

"Well, the thing is," began Mime. "The treasures that the dragon guards don't belong to him by right. About thirty years ago they were stolen by Wo..."

"Stolen from Nibelheim," Brünnhilde interrupted in an icy voice.

"Yes, from Nibelheim. But that's not all. The most important of them (as you remember, it's the magic ring) belongs to the Rhinedaughters. It was forged from enchanted gold that was taken from them by... eh... a certain dwarf."

"And the magic helm – is it from the Rhine too?" asked Siegfried who hadn't missed a single word.

"No, not the helm," laughed Mime and attempted to look modest:

"It's actually mine. I forged it myself. By the way, the one who wears it can become invisible and turn into anyone or anything else."

"The helm isn't yours!" Hagen cried shrilly. "My father learned it secret with a charm and made you forge it, so it belongs to him!"

Gunther and Gutrune pulled at his sleeves warningly, but he merely scoffed. Mime clenched his teeth and hissed something quietly. Brünnhilde knew that if she didn't do something right now a catastrophe would strike.

"In fact, the helm isn't so important," she rushed to help. "Mime, after all, could forge another, a perfectly identical one..."

"You won't have it," said the Nibelung.

"...Could forge another," repeated Brünnhilde distinctly and pushed her husband's elbow to make him shut his mouth. "Among the dragon's treasures, naturally the ring matters most. It is the Rhinemaidens' ring, and there's no point arguing about that. Until it returns to the Rhine, it bears a terrible curse that brings death to any owner."

"Why, then, does the dragon live so long?" exclaimed the previously quiet Gutrune in surprise. "Father told us he had been young when the dragon came to that cave."

Both Mime and Brünnhilde were lost – truth be told, it amazed them just as well.

"Maybe he's long dead in truth," Gunther suggested. "We just don't know."

"No, he's alive, my father knows it for certain," Hagen shook his head.

For the first time it dawned on Brünnhilde that the little Gibichungs knew of Hagen's parentage – when the boy mentioned his father and obviously didn't mean Gibich, nobody paid any particular attention to it. Although, of course, it's hard to take Hagen for a human – he's got the looks of a dwarf, the older he gets, the more he resembles Alberich, Mime _was_ right about it...

"I don't know about it," Mime had to admit. "Sometimes I think Fafner _is_ long dead and moves only due to the ring's magic."

Everyone shivered, even more with disgust than with fear.

"However that may be," he concluded, "Brünnhilde and I have the following plan. When Siegfried grows up, we'll train him for a fight with Fafner and win the treasure hoard with his help. The ring we'll give to the Rhinedaughters, the helm goes to me, and the rest, too, can..."

"The rest can be divided," Brünnhilde finished. "There's enough for all of Nibelheim and more."

The children were silent and thoughtful, trying to fully comprehend what they've heard.

"But why must only Siegfried battle the dragon?" Gunther wondered. "Why can't Hagen and I fight too?"

"Um... I've always thought that Notung is the only sword that can kill Fafner," Brünnhilde explained carefully.

"But we'll help, at least."

"Of course!" Siegfried was inspired by this sudden idea. "Auntie, are you thinking that three against one isn't fair? But the dragon is many times as large as each of us, so it doesn't count."

"Hagen, will you go fight the dragon?" asked Gunther, turning to his brother.

"The helm goes to me and Father," the latter said sourly.

"Suit yourselves!" Siegfried agreed readily. "If Mime made it, he can make several others, for all of us – right?"

"We'll see," said Mime. "When you defeat the dragon, I'll think of it. Perhaps..."

"There you are!"

Hagen still wasn't content:

"The ring's mine."

"Hagen, do understand, it belongs to the Rhinedaughters, and any dishonest owner of it shall perish," Brünnhilde tried to gently persuade him. "I have no idea about Fafner, but I know for sure that his brother hardly lived a few seconds after acquiring the ring."

"It's mine."

It was obvious the half-dwarf wouldn't give up. Brünnhilde looked at Mime questioningly, he shrugged. She was forced to reply in the same way as to Siegfried about the helm:

"What for are we, as it's said, counting the chicks before they're hatched? When the dragon's vanquished, we'll divide the hoard. And there's still a lot of time until them."

"Why on earth?" Siegfried exclaimed vehemently. "Let me forge my sword, and I'll go tomorrow!"

"Oh, Siegfried, I can see you're just bursting with courage. But you know yourself the dragon's enormous, he will crush you all under a single paw. Grow up, get learned, train to fight – and you'll go to battle with him."

For Siegfried it didn't seem a good enough reason to delay his heroic deeds, but he didn't dare oppose his strict aunt.

"Are there pretty adornments for girls among these treasures?" Gutrune asked dreamily. With a smile, Brünnhilde remembered that Fricka, too, had wanted to get these adornments for herself sometime.

"Heaps," Mime assured her. "We Nibelungs have always been very skilled jewelers," he sighed nostalgically, "when we had materials to work with."

As usual, little Gutrune's ingenuous remark dissolved the tension. Siegfried, Gunther and Hagen, without waiting for the rain to finish, cheerfully ran into the garden – as if there had been no fight at all. Through the window Brünnhilde saw them attacking an old oak, probably pretending it was Fafner. Soon Gutrune joined them.

"I hope everything goes on as smoothly as now," said the Nibelung.

"I hope so too," Brünnhilde nodded with doubt. "Now Hagen's calmed down, but then he'll talk to his father once more... and it will begin all over again!"

"Oh, Alberich will convince him that he will get neither the ring nor the helm with our help! We _had_ hinted that he shouldn't be trusted..."

"Mime, you don't understand. At this age kids believe their parents to be truth embodied, and try to suppress all doubts with regards to that. After Hagen's next meeting with Alberich all our talks with him will be forgotten."

"I'm worried Alberich might set the dragon on us before we're ready, for spoiling his child."

"Fafner isn't a guard dog, and he doesn't obey your brother. Besides, Hagen lives here and not with us, and the stone castle will withstand the dragon's attack."

"While we in the woods will heroically die," finished Mime.

"Now, please. Fafner chooses his prey for its size and fatness, and what do we have in our hut? A dwarf, an eight-year-old boy, a horse that's quick as lightning, and a woman who's quite slim, I daresay. We needn't fear Fafner: just Alberich."

"Oh, right, merely him," the Nibelung quipped. "Just a tiny beetle, nothing of interest."

"Don't underestimate Alberich. If he's a tiny beetle, then you are..."

"I'm only an inch shorter than him!"

"Nevertheless."

"Brünnhilde!.."

"Fine, fine. But with your folk, it seems, height is inversely related to spitefulness..."

They could have gone on like this for a long time, if not for Siegfried and Gunther who came in to show them how expertly they could fence with sticks.


	17. A Bolt from the Blue

Since Siegfried's fight with Hagen everything had gone on as it should have been – that is to say, relatively smoothly, as Brünnhilde noted with relief and a bit of superstitious dread. Though Gibich had to cancel the trip to the South because of a militant Basque group appearing north of Saragossa. But thanks to that Siegfried wasn't left aggrieved – the former Valkyrie wouldn't have let him go alone. There had been no more fights, but Hagen again often sank for a long time into moodiness. Mime and Brünnhilde's foreboding had apparently come true, and Hagen had had a serious talk with Alberich. The half-dwarf once more preferred sitting in the chokecherry tree to playing and talking. What he was thinking of up there, no one had the slightest idea.

Another summer came, and Brünnhilde, who had never before thought herself particularly sentimental, secretly sighed when visiting the Gibichungs. It seemed that only recently Siegfried and Gunther were tiny boys who fought Jörmungandr the world serpent in the bushes, and Gutrune learned her first words! The bushes had grown into a perfectly passless thicket, and Gibich cut them down, planting a row of elegant silver poplars instead. On the meadow in front of the castle two sixteen-year-olds practiced archery, and a pretty girl in her teens looked at them with admiration. In the branches of an old chokecherry tree – nobody would dare to cut _that_! – there sat a grim youth with the eyes of an elderly man.

Brünnhilde turned around, and Mime caught her eye. That's the one who had barely changed! Mime – and herself. Something must have been left from her unearthly nature that slowed down her aging. Or did the same power that stripped her of the title of a Valkyrie adjust her new mortal essence to the nature of her long-living husband?

Their relationship with Mime on the whole remained the same. Only on rare nights did Brünnhilde dream of Valhalla, of her sisters, and then of her quarrel with her father. The former Valkyrie awoke in tears and couldn't calm down for a long time. Seeing Auntie crying, Siegfried tiptoed behind the door in embarrassment, and Mime, getting on a bench, tightly embraced Brünnhilde, and they stood like that for a while without uttering a word, while the bird family twittered compassionately behind the window.

But such cases grew even less frequent with the years. Any pain, even the strongest one, is dulled with time, and Brünnhilde wasn't so intensely haunted by her memories anymore.

Besides, she hadn't time enough to properly indulge in nostalgia. On one hand, Siegfried, as he grew up, became more self-sufficient, on the other, he was the source of more trouble for her than ever. Brünnhilde, in particular, continued to teach him, to tell him everything she knew of ancient heroes, faraway lands and foreign languages, but she admitted with regret that he didn't want to be more serious with his studies as years went by.

"You think I'm a hero anyway!" he smiled innocently one day after getting confused with runes all over again. "Don't you? You aren't angry, Auntie, are you?"

And he ran away to the woods where he and Gunther planned to search for a boar's den.

In the smithery Siegfried too was rather lazy, despite the prospect of the soon-to-be-forged sword. Mime was furious with it, and he often remembered Brünnhilde her longtime promises to influence Siegfried, to teach him, and so on.

"But my influence doesn't extend to the smithery," the former Valkyrie usually replied. Indeed, the smithery was fully ruled by the Nibelung who was very reluctant to let any visitors in.

"And it shouldn't! I want it to be concentrated on Siegfried!" Mime said.

"Oh, indeed? I'll be fussing over the boy and you'll be working on your plans of taking over the world!"

"And if you won't be fussing over Siegfried, _you_ 'll be working on such plans!"

"Why on earth?"

"Which of us is always complaining?"

"You!"

"Complaining without cause, I mean!.."

They hadn't had anything directly to do with Alberich or with Fafner. The dragon had grown quiet over the years – either too fat or too old. He didn't venture into the woods further than to drink from his favorite lake, and ate small forest beasts which he caught, as a rule, blindly sticking out his paw out of the cave. It was a mystery to Brünnhilde how, with such methods, he hadn't once caught Alberich who was constantly keeping watch nearby.

"We must get Siegfried to fight the dragon soon," the former Valkyrie remarked, watching the young men's exercises in archery. "Fafner, I think, will soon die by himself. Our boy will be so disappointed!"

"I'll be disappointed as well: Alberich will snatch the ring before we can blink," agreed Mime. "But Siegfried adamantly refuses to learn to forge with a stubbornness worthy of a better cause."

"He can do _something_."

"Nail Grane and repair a pan, and even that with moans and groans."

"Well, let him try to forge the sword at least!"

"I've suggested it to him already. He let me go hang."

Brünnhilde sadly shook her head. It truly was so hard, raising a future hero... Heroes are complex people. One shouldn't expect hard work and obedience from them like from normal humans. But she was frequently visited by a treacherous thought that it would have been better if Siegfried had been a tad more normal.

Meanwhile, Siegfried and Gunther continued their exercises with their bows. Gutrune gushed with praise every time they hit the mark, and of course it encouraged them even more. Soon they began to master the archers' favorite trick – splitting an arrow on the mark in two with a new arrow.

"All that rubbish of yours," Hagen said in a bored voice when Siegfried finally managed it.

"You are rubbish yourself!" cried Siegfried with indignation.

"Climb down and try it!" Gutrune poured oil on flames. "I bet you wouldn't make it!"

"As if I want to fool around."

Siegfried and both Gibichungs burst into laughter.

"Hagen, you're just as usual," Gutrune concluded. "The only thing you do is grumble. If the Northern tribes declare war on us, you'll still sit in your tree and snap at everyone."

Despite being in her teens, she obviously understood the nature of men – especially the young ones. Hagen, deeply insulted, instantly jumped off the chokecherry tree and snatched the bow and quiver from Siegfried.

"Mocking me?" he yelled. "I can do better than you both!"

But he hadn't even the time to bend the bow. There came a terrifying roar, a gust of stormy wind rolled through the garden, though the sky remained perfectly clear.

Everybody, including Siegfried and Brünnhilde, was knocked off their feet. They hardly came round when the roar and the wind repeated themselves – and all was quiet again.

"The dragon!" Mime, shaking with horror, spoke out what everyone was thinking.

"Doesn't seem like it," Siegfried, who had never learned fear, was only angry that the arrows were scattered around. "Fafner's roar isn't this loud."

"But that's him," her teeth rattling, Gutrune clung to Siegfried with one hand and to Gunther with another. "It could be no one else..."

Brünnhilde listened carefully. There seemed to be no odd sound coming from the woods. If Fafner had decided to gobble up the people in the castle, they would have heard him coming already.

Then the hideous howl came once more... although it wasn't a howl. The former Valkyrie now figured that the reason for the wind that sent them flying was nothing more but... a thundering, reverberating, but absolutely normal _AAAACHOOOOOO!_

Not waiting for the wind to calm, she laughed hysterically. Even when everyone began to get up, she was still sitting in the grass, unable to stop laughing and wiping off tears.

"Are you all right?" asked Mime.

"L-let's go inside the castle," said Brünnhilde with difficulty amid bursts of laughter. "Or I'm n-not sure about our safety. Don't you realize? The dragon is _sneezing_!"


	18. How to Heal Your Dragon

The whole group came into the castle, hardly able to move from laughter. Outside the wind from the dragon's sneezes howled again, but it didn't dampen everyone's mood.

"I w... wonder, what's happened?" said Grimhild, catching her breath. "Can d-dragons catch... catch cold?"

"And the weather's warm," added Gunther. "Besides, the dragons, and this one especially, supposedly have such a thick skin and so much fat underneath that even the harshest winter can't harm them."

In the meantime, Gutrune opened the window to look at the garden's destruction, turned back to say something... and sneezed.

The rest of them stared at her. A handful of silvery-white poplar fluff flew into the room.

"Oh, I see," said Brünnhilde. "Gibich, these are your garden's innovations. There've been no poplars here before, and nobody's used to them. Only I have seen them – when I've traveled around the world with Grane. When a poplar is blooming, everybody in the neighborhood gets a runny nose from all this fluff."

Gibich, embarrassed, looked at the infamous poplars. Two of them were torn down by the storm.

"What should we do now?" he asked.

"Go to fight the dragon!" yelled Siegfried happily. Mime glanced at him with interest:

"Really? And how are you going to get near him? As far as I remember, the wind has knocked you off your feet as well. Now can you imagine what it's like right by the cave's side?"

"Before fighting the dragon we need to cure him," said Brünnhilde.

"But it's weird," said Gutrune, confused. But Siegfried took the hint at once:

"Of course! Auntie, I've forgotten! A hero," he said instructively to Gutrune, "can't battle sick peo... creatures."

The girl, looking at him with adoration, instantly nodded in agreement.

"All right, heal him," Mime rolled his eyes. "I think it won't be much easier than fighting him."

His wife had to admit that he was right. Indeed – if Fafner's sneezes can throw anyone several feet away, how can one get near the cave? And even if they do get there and the dragon agrees to be treated – how are they going to make it? Brünnhilde had a large supply of remedies, but not large enough even for a single sip for the gigantic dragon.

"Well, first, Gibich, we need to cut down your poplars," she said, unable to think of anything better at the moment. "Plant some maples or lindens, they are just as nice, but we need to be safe around here."

"Fine," Gibich wasn't too willing to give up: he had been very proud of his new alley.

"If Grane could fly as before we could have come to the cave from above..." Brünnhilde said dreamily. Mime asked:

"Why does it have to be Grane? We have a whole flying flock under our window, and put together they aren't worse that the stallion."

"Do you think we can persuade them to go to the dragon's den?"

"Why not? They accompanied you when you went to the cave."

"But they _were_ with me!"

"Was it safer for them? You can't shield them from the dragon!"

"Wait a minute," Siegfried interrupted. "Our birds are all very well, but we still haven't decided what to give Fafner!"

"Since long ago we've had barrels of white honey in our cellars," offered Gunther. "It's healing."

"That honey of yours must be hard by now," said Mime. "Honestly, I don't know what's worse – a sneezing dragon or a drunk one."

Everyone snickered.

"We can gather elderberries," said Grimhild. "My mother used it to treat colds. With garlic as well, and with wormwood."

"There's sweet-amber too," Brünnhilde remembered her favorite remedy. "We must gather all that, put into sacks and give to our birdies."

"If only they don't eat it all themselves on their way," Gutrune remarked. "Birds like elderberries for certain."

"Ours won't eat it," Brünnhilde said with confidence. "They're clever."

They had to hide in the castle till evening. After sunset the dragon usually fell asleep – and, despite the sneezing, he was able to do that this time. After making sure that the sneezes had stopped, Siegfried, Gunther, Gutrune and even Hagen ran to the woods with lanterns to gather the herbs. Mime and Brünnhilde stayed to help the hosts with getting the garden back in order and, most importantly, getting rid of the poplars.

The garden, of course, looked ghastly. By sheer miracle Hagen's chokecherry tree had survived, along with a couple of other large trees. Everything else was a disaster. However, the strength of the wind had had a few advantages to it too – for example, most of the trees and bushes weren't cut but torn out with their roots. The servants, under Grimhild's supervision, immediately started to plant them anew.

Mime, thanks to his small height, looked for miniature garden statues and the bows with the arrows. Even he barely managed it: Siegfried's bow was found almost a mile away from the castle.

Long after midnight the young men returned, carrying huge sacks with herbs and roots. Their faces showed that something incredible had happened in the forest.

"You know what?" cried Siegfried, putting down his sack. "The dragon's cave got smashed!"

What next? Brünnhilde and Mime, shocked, looked first at Siegfried and then at each other.

"Crushed completely," Hagen confirmed. "The dragon's sleeping on the meadow by the lake, and my father's sitting in a pine tree nearby."

But even the image of Alberich in a tree couldn't distract Brünnhilde from her most worrying thought:

"Wait! What about the treasures? Are they under the cave's ruins?"

"Well, they certainly aren't on the meadow," said Gunther. "Siegfried and I have checked."

Not on the meadow... The precious ring and the helm, considering how small they are, could be basically anywhere. Maybe they got lost in the remnants of the hill where Fafner had lived up to this day. Or they could have fallen into the lake. Or they were lying on a road for everyone to see.

Mime seemed to read her thoughts.

"After the birds drop the medicines to the dragon," he said solidly, "they'll need to fly and do a thorough search everywhere. They're tiny, and quicker than any of us. If they don't find the treasures... well, we might as well give up."

"Let's go and take Grane," sighed Brünnhilde helplessly. "We have to act now. Another day like this will finish us."

"I'm with you!" Siegfried jumped with joy, but the former Valkyrie snapped:

"No. The three of us will be heavy for Grane, and you've got to have some sleep."

Siegfried pouted. He liked to sleep in the guest rooms of the castle, but he hated to be brushed off like a little child, especially in front of his friends.

Grimhild, though, told her children to go to bed as well.

Riding on Grane's back out of the castle gates, Mime whined:

"Just as usual. Everybody's resting, and I, after toiling much more than them, have to sit in the bumping saddle..."

"When did Grane ever go unsteadily?" Brünnhilde intervened for the steed and stroked his mane. "By the way, don't forget I haven't been idle either."

"But you're used to riding, unlike me! My legs ache from it."

"You should be used now, after more than ten years."

She grew quiet. The forest where Grane now trotted was an even more horrifying sight than Gibich's garden. Fallen trees, bushes torn by the roots... to put it short, the closer they came to the dragon's cave, the less the world resembled itself.

"What's with our hut?" Brünnhilde recalled suddenly. Mime chuckled condescendingly:

"Our hut, I gather, is still the same as before. It's far beyond Fafner's cave. Neither the hut, the smithery, nor our impudent feathered neighbors have come to any harm."

His foregone conclusions about "impudent feathered neighbors" weren't so correct, as it turned out. In a battered ball of dirty feathers and fluff that fell from the sky, twittering excitedly, even Grane with his appraised animal instinct hardly recognized the matriarch of the white birds' family...


	19. The Return of the Helm

The bird, glad to be finally recognized, flew in astonishing somersaults, chirping and twittering.

"What _do_ you want?" grumbled Mime. "You should have figured out by now, after ten years, that we don't understand your language."

"Don't vex her," said Brünnhilde. "Birdie dear, do you want to tell us something?"

The bird gently stroked the arm of the former Valkyrie and bolted ahead with a _tweeeet_. Then she stopped in her tracks and turned around, looking at the riders expectantly.

"She want us to follow her," realized Brünnhilde. "I think she has found the dragon's treasures herself without us prompting her!"

She clicked her tongue, and Grane sped up. The bird who had been waiting exactly for that flew further without turning around again.

"Most probably, she merely wants us to feed her younglings or help her repair her nest," Mime mumbled in the meantime. "You've spoiled them, they're far too delicate for their own good..."

Brünnhilde didn't stop him – let him grunt, he has to relieve his irritation somehow. Moreover, the bird was long used to Mime's anger and threats to fry her, so she paid no attention to him and flew on, easily finding the path in the dark forest. Sometimes she disappeared behind large trees, but Brünnhilde's sharp eye soon found the grayish spot ahead of them once more.

Somewhere nearby a raven croaked. At first no one noticed it, but the croaking grew louder. It was obvious there were several birds.

At the moment the white birdie had just vanished behind a big pine tree, but there quickly came her frightened squeaks – mixed with even more furious croaks.

"Wotan's ravens!" Brünnhilde whispered, grasping Mime's shoulder. "It's them, I know it, it's them!.."

Indeed, ordinary ravens and crows rarely attacked peaceful birds – only in a fight for food or place. But Brünnhilde's pet was only passing by… it meant that the ravens specifically didn't want her to show the treasures to anyone.

Hardly a few seconds had passed when the former Valkyrie's guess was proven to be correct. From the pine branches came the bird like an arrow, followed by a huge bluish black raven whom Brünnhilde immediately recognized as the leader of her father's raven flock.

The raven had already protracted his steely claws and opened the reddish beak.

Shrieking with terror, Brünnhilde curled behind Mime's back. He did nothing – frozen in fear, he helplessly watched the raven getting closer.

The birdie flung herself at the Nibelung and pressed herself, trembling, against his shirt. Her squeaks sounded to Mime like a human plea for help.

At a loss, he stroked her ruffled feathers, jumped from the stallion and rolled headfirst on the ground. The raven turned towards him, but the dwarf – more by instinct than by a logical plan – picked up a handful of sand and threw it into his eyes.

The raven rolled in the air, blinking desperately. But Mime was now thinking clearer – tearing off a bit of lace from his coat, he threw it up. The wind carried the dirty white shred, and the raven chased it gleefully. The rest of the flock, seeing that the leader had noticed their prey, darted up to the sky from the pine tree. For safety Mime threw up several more shreds. The ravens scattered around, each chasing after what seemed to them to be the birdie.

Brünnhilde, barely catching her breath, got off Grane and helped her husband up. As usual, Mime started to shake when the actual danger was over.

The white bird sat on his shoulder and chirped sweetly.

"Now, stop it," the Nibelung huffed in embarrassment.

"You were splendid," the former Valkyrie hugged him, not even trying to conceal her pride. "It was amazingly brave of you. And overly risky, too! What if the ravens attacked you?"

She shuddered at the thought of such an outcome.

"Really, I'm small, they didn't see me," Mime tried to joke. As it always happened when all was serious, he failed at it.

"The birdie's smaller still, and they nearly killed her," Brünnhilde sobbed and clasped his hands, showering them with kisses. She was afraid that should she let him go, the ravens would carry him off.

"Brünnhilde…" Mime protested, trying despite himself to pull his hands away. "It isn't time for endearments or hysterics… The ravens can return any moment, and then we'll be done for."

The bird, who had calmed down after her ordeal, reminded them with tactful quiet chirps to get on their way. Mime and Brünnhilde saddled Grane, and their strange group went on.

Less than an hour later they came to the lake, where the dragon was snoring on the shore. In a tall pine tree, curled on a thick branch, slept Alberich.

"Are you hinting we must steal the treasures from under the noses of the dragon and my brother?" Mime gave the bird a betrayed look. The latter twittered energetically to explain. Brünnhilde, though, had understood it herself:

"The helm!" she said in a theatrical whisper. "If Fafner's still a dragon, he's wearing it."

The dwarf paused at once. What's more, then he said:

"If so, let me take it. The birdie's too weak to carry it, and you would wake the dragon up."

Brünnhilde thought she shouldn't have praised him so much. A cowardly Mime is better than Mime with no fear in the world.

"Don't!" she caught him by the sleeve. "I'll do that!"

"Has your Grane learned to fly again, then? No, really? If Fafner doesn't notice Alberich, I'll elude him for sure."

Breaking free from her grip, he tiptoed carefully towards the dragon.

He climbed up the motionless thorned head. Fafner's teeth snapped but he didn't wake. Mime searched among the thorns, picked at last the massive gold helm… and was unable to contain a shout of triumph.

Fafner opened his eyes and yawned soundly. The Nibelung, now shouting with fright, jumped down – and none too soon. The helm's magic had ended, and the dragon shrank several times, his figure became as though covered in mist… Mime put the helm on and started thinking in despair what to turn himself into.

"Who's there?!" Fafner roared. Even in his real giant form he seemed an enormous mountain to Mime. "I'll find you! I can sniff out my gold helm even if it's invisible!"

Suddenly, the dwarf was struck by a brilliant idea. Murmuring the words necessary for the charm, he calmly stepped out of the grass, putting on a sorrowful expression. His body seemed to be inflated with air, and the clothing turned into horribly heavy stone-like armor. Mime specially wished it to have a ghostly shade of blue.

Fafner slowly sank down, forgetting the helm:

"B-brother?" he gasped.  
Mime slowly nodded – majestically and tragically, as he hoped. He raised his hand to finish Fafner off for once and for all, but instantly doubted it: he didn't know whether giant's strength came together with giant's looks…

Besides, even Brünnhilde who was hiding in the bushes felt pity for Fafner. He wasn't an intimidating reptile anymore, but a pathetic elderly man, sneezing and coughing, raising his shaky hands in feeble defense against the unexpected spiritual visitor.

Fafner's eyes welled with tears. "The ghost" gave a start, amazed, but the giant didn't notice it.

"Forgive me!" he groaned. "Forgive me, please! Do you think I was happy with the ring? With it… all these years… I've been dying a hundred times a day! For it I've slain all our tribe, and for thirty years I've been gnawed by loneliness!"

Fasolt's ghost murmured something under itax breath and vanished. Moments later Brünnhilde was approached by a tiny frog with a barely visible spark of gold on its head.

"It wasn't quite right," Brünnhilde said, uncertain. "I think it was a cheating… not very honest way. Look how he's tortured!"

Mime, himself hesitant about his trick, poured out excuses:

"Well, sorry! I didn't think it will turn out like this. I had only two seconds to think before he would have eaten me!"

"Alright," sighed Brünnhilde. "Let's get out of here. He might be faking it, of course… I'll visit him later and check it."

"My dear peacemaker," Mime smiled. "Pity Siegfried won't have a dragon to fight."


	20. The Medicinal Herbs

Concerning the hut Mime turned out to be right: there were no traces of the storm in their neighborhood. However, Fafner's sneezes did change the air waves, and the rooms were cold like in December. The dwarf quickly lit up the fire in the smithery oven and Brünnhilde in the oven in the kitchen. But upstairs, the bedrooms were still half-frozen.

"I'll work a bit before sleep," said Mime.

"I'll bring Fafner my herbal brewings," said his wife. "Now that he's several times smaller the supplies we've gathered will more than suffice for him."

"Shouldn't you be a little more careful with your inexhaustible charity?"

"Mime, I feel sorry for the old man. Besides, we need to look for the ring anyway."

"By the way, why didn't the bird show us where it is?"

"She was in a shock after the ravens, don't you understand?"

She brewed sweet-amber, elderberries, and everything else gathered by Siegfried, Hagen and the Gibichungs, Brünnhilde filled flasks with these infusions, and loaded all that on Grane's back. The stallion looked at her in silent reproach. He obeyed his mistress unquestioningly, the flasks weren't a bit too heavy for him to carry, but his pride suffered most from becoming a likeness of a donkey.

"Let's go to the lake," the former Valkyrie whispered to him. "Don't worry, nobody will see you."

The steed obediently trotted in that direction.

On the shore of the lake there sat Fafner, hunching miserably and holding a big gold plate. Sometimes he sneezed loudly, and a cloud of dust enveloped the plate. Alberich was still sound asleep on the pine tree. How on earth he didn't wake up was a mystery. Or perhaps he did but fell asleep again. Anyway, Brünnhilde had a sneaking feeling that everything looked similar to the day when she came to reconcile Alberich with his brother.

But Fafner, unlike the Nibelung, paid no attention to his visitor.

Brünnhilde coughed.

The giant glanced at her without a trace or interest.

"I brought you medicines," she said, feeling a bit foolish. Only the day before she was getting Siegfried ready for a fight with Fafner, and now there she was.

"Why?" he asked calmly.

"The medicines help against your sneezing and cough. You've got it all because of the poplar fluff."

She took the flasks from Grane's back:

"Here…"

"Why?" the giant repeated, not looking at them. "For the gold? It's scattered all over the forest. I've only got this plate left. Take it if you like. Who _are_ you, for that matter?"

He threw the plate down. Brünnhilde almost laughed: of course, Fafner sat all the time in his cave and therefore missed the whole turmoil with Wotan and his family.

But what she didn't want right now was to mention Wotan.

"I'm Brünnhilde, wife to the Nibelung Mime," she explained. "I brought the mixtures because I feel sorry for you. Now your sneezes won't hurt anyone, but I do pity you."

"Nonsense," snapped Fafner, but he took the flask nearest to him and had a sip. "Why do I need to be healthy? It's meaningless."

"What are you talking about?" Brünnhilde exclaimed.

"I've killed my brother, I've killed all my subjects for the sake of the treasure, and even the treasure I can't control," he said bleakly. "What is left for me?"

"Well… you're bound to find someone who would help you," she answered hesitantly. Fafner gave a short, mirthless laugh:

"Whom? That fool in the pine tree?"

"You know about him?" Brünnhilde had thought nothing would surprise her, but she hadn't the least inkling of suspicion that Fafner had in fact long known about Alberich.

"Certainly," said the giant. "I could have eaten him a thousand times. Or squashed him flat with a single paw. But I didn't. In truth, one of the few things that kept in me the will to live was the danger of my treasure getting stolen. But it stole itself without this dwarfling's help."

He put away the flask and buried his face in his hands. Brünnhilde started to have serious fears about his mind's stability.

"My husband, too, used to live merely for the gold's sake," she told him. "But he has changed and now feels himself a lot better."

"Hinting that you've put him on the right way, aren't you? I'd like to know how the two of you got married in the first place, then… Anyhow. I've never sought love. And never found it. Even Freia left me cold, and she's supposed to be the loveliest of women."

"It doesn't necessarily have to be spousal love!" cried the former Valkyrie, unwittingly repeating the Rhinemaidens' words.

"I won't have any other kind of it either," Fafner shook his head. "You can't imagine how frozen my heart has been since I murdered my own brother. Thank you for the mixtures, good woman. Go to your husband, he must be anxious to see you back. Don't waste your time on me."

He gulped down some more of the flask's contents. That's an achievement, thought Brünnhilde. He started by protesting against the medicines.

"I'll visit you later. You and Alberich," she promised. "Goodbye."

She jumped on Grane's back. The stallion, glad to be rid of the flasks, started off in a merry gallop.

But all of a sudden, midway to the hut, he abruptly stopped.

Brünnhilde looked at him with worry – was he sick?

The steed's ears stood straight. Listening close into the nightly quiet, his mistress too realized what had startled him so.

A horse's neigh came from the sky, first weakly, then louder. From the sky, there was no mistake. There were the wings beating, too.

It could only mean one thing: one of the Valkyries was coming near.

"Sister!" Brünnhilde yelled at the top of her lungs. She strongly suspected the Valkyrie was coming towards her, but she wasn't sure whether she could be seen in the thick forest. "My sister, I'm here!"

The dark silhouette, barely distinguishable in the night sky, made a turn and drew closer. With tears of joy in her eyes, Brünnhilde recognized her favorite sister Waltraute riding her black mare Erly.

"Brünnhilde!"

"Waltraute!"

The sisters hugged each other tightly.

"I've missed you all so much!" Brünnhilde whispered, close to weeping from happiness.

"I've missed you too… not a day passes without us talking about you… That's why I came here: to offer you to come home."

"What?" Brünnhilde even took a step back. Her sister sighed heavily:

"Father said I should tell you. If you agree to help him, he'll forgive you."

"Help him to do what?"

"To extinguish the Nibelungs and then seize the ring."


	21. The Battle for No Reason

Brünnhilde took another step back:

"What do you mean?"

Waltraute repeated Wotan's words. Then she added:

"We saw that Fafner had lost his dragon form and that the gold was carried away all round the forest. Now it's safe to…"

"Well!" her sister cut her short. "Are you insane? You are offering me – me! – to kill off Nibelungs and retrieve the ring! The ring, Waltraute, belongs to the Rhinedaughters, and we'll return it to them as soon as we find it. The treasures, by the way, are lawfully the property of Nibelheim, but they can be shared, fine, if you insist."

"Father says… the ring's most important… Oh, dear sister! Do you want him to disown you forever and forbid us to see you?"

Brünnhilde's heart skipped a beat. Even after the horrible scene ten years ago she had cherished the hope to reconcile with her father one day. What would it be like to feel it's never going to happen?

"Look at yourself!" Waltraute continued scornfully. "How degraded you've become, away from the family! You've lost your magic powers, your skin is rough, there is dirt under your nails… And you obey this disgusting, repulsive, vile Nibfffff…"

Brünnhilde smacked her. It wasn't a smack of the sort that she playfully exchanged with Mime a hundred times a week, this was a real one. Now it was Waltraute who retreated.

"Don't you dare speak of him like that!" hissed Brünnhilde. "You should know: I am happy, completely happy, happier than I've ever been in Valhalla. I see through you all now: you hide behind your pathos, behind your eloquent speeches as if it were a wall of stone! But as I notice it, I can also notice that actually you have nothing else to boast of!"

Her sister looked at her silently, licking her bleeding lips. Brünnhilde felt sick, but she knew she'd feel even worse should she keep that all to herself. She grew more enraged:

"All your haughty ways, all your talk of heroism bring nothing but suffering! Anyone can see that – except for yourselves! Are you suggesting I join your lot, stuffed with pride, once more?"

She burst into tears, hugging Grane by neck, and suddenly heard chirping. The flock of the white birds, making a turn above her, divided in two – one half bolted off in the direction of the forest hut, another to Gibich's castle.

"B-but our father will rule the world if he gets the ring," Waltraute managed to utter. She didn't understand much from her sister's hysterical rambling.

"He saw how one rules with the ring. It should have frightened him," said Brünnhilde sharply. "Oh, sister, I'm afraid I said many things that are hard to forgive… But do understand me. While I live I'll never agree to such terms. Now that you've mentioned it, I don't obey Mime. Neither does he obey me," she smiled through tears.

Just at the moment Mime himself appeared ahead of her on the path. He was yawning widely and shaking his fist at the tweeting birdies.

"They wouldn't let me sleep!" he complained to Brünnhilde. "So, what have you gotten yourself into?"

His wife got off the horse.

"Mime, let me introduce you. My sister Waltraute."

The expression of the black mare's rider made it clear to Mime that Waltraute was done being friendly. He firmly clasped Brünnhilde's hand and gave her a reassuring nod. Her face sour, Waltraute clicked her tongue, and her Erly rose upwards and disappeared in the skies.

"I think she'll soon come back," Brünnhilde whispered. "And we don't have a single weapon!"

One of the birds sat on Grane's head and whistled something – the stallion turned back and galloped away. His masters barely realized what happened.

"What did they say to him?" Mime said, amazed. "He's never been like this before."

A short while later Brünnhilde stirred:

"He's back!"

Indeed, there was the sound of hooves beating earth. But there were several riders, and they rushed past Mime and Brünnhilde along another path.

But quite soon a whole army descended from above. The Valkyries on their winged horses, the ravens, the fallen heroes, all led by a furious Wotan.

"Where is the ring, you traitorous wench?" he bellowed, pointing his spear at Brünnhilde. Mime sneaked in-between the spearhead and the former Valkyrie:

"Had we known it, good man, we'd have had it on one of our fingers."

Wotan raised the spear…

"Don't touch them!" a shout came from the left, and Siegfried on Grane's back stormed onto the meadow. He was waving… Brünnhilde and Mime shared a happy smile… he was waving a shiny, freshly forged Notung.

"Youngster, you don't have long to live," Wotan chuckled. "Do you see the Valkyries?"

"I see a Valkyrie every day," Siegfried countered. "Besides, my sword was made by you. Try breaking it this time!"

The spear and the sword crossed. Brünnhilde hid her face on Mime's shoulder – she was afraid the sword would snap in halves again.

But the jingle continued. Siegfried was still attacking.

The Valkyries looked doubtfully from Brünnhilde to Siegfried and back, and they obviously didn't want to openly fight their sister and their nephew. However, the heroes decided to help Wotan, moving ahead in a dull horde.

Suddenly a double stripe seemed to cut off their way. Looking closer, Brünnhilde saw that it was in fact Gunther and Hagen, both in horseback.

"Do you want the ring! Get this, this, this instead!" Hagen spoke, throwing Valhalla's dwellers away with his spear.

"For my blood brother!" Gunther shouted. When did the boys find the time to swear brotherhood?

If Wotan's fighters had been a bit more sapient and self-sufficient, they would have crushed the two opponents down in mere moments. But Brünnhilde knew perfectly that Wotan, frightened of revolts in his own palace, left them none of their own willpower.

Additionally, if it wasn't messy enough already, Fafner came from the right and with an extremely bored look started to push the heroes that managed to get past Gunther and Hagen.

"There! And you were afraid of him!" said Brünnhilde triumphantly. "I hope Siegfried doesn't try killing him…"

But, fortunately, Siegfried was fully occupied with Wotan's spear and, besides, probably didn't recognize the dragon in the new guise – or in the old one, to be exact.

"I'd like to teach them some manners too…" said Mime dreamily, gesturing at the heroes. Brünnhilde stared at him. Was it Mime? The one who was so proud of his carefulness, as he named it?

The birds, circling the battlefield, heard him, and in ten minutes the gold helm fell into his hands – the one Mime promptly forgot about when he was woken up and hurried to help Brünnhilde.

Immediately an enormous giant with a hammer to rival Mjöllnir came to Fafner's aid. Brünnhilde smiled victoriously. She felt a bit awkward that she was weaponless and unable to take part in the fight, but, after all, more often than not she had been only watching the battles. At present all her feelings were overtaken by the sudden joy and pride for her husband.  
And then she heard malicious croaks right above her head.

Brünnhilde looked up and froze. Everybody had forgotten the ravens – and she had known since childhood how vengeful they are…

The white birdies vanished in the bushes, but this time the leader raven wasn't interested in them. Opening his beak, he aimed at Brünnhilde. In despair she picked up a stick lying nearby, knowing that it wouldn't last a single moment… It was useless to cry for help, in the noise no one would hear her…

Finally she wearly cried out:

"He-e-elp!"

The raven flew down. Brünnhilde fell on her back – and instantly Mime dropped on top of her, once more in his Nibelung form. The helm that got blown off as he ran was lying several feet away in the grass.

The last things that Brünnhilde heard before fainting were the sound of claws tearing fabric and the Nibelung's pained cries.


	22. A Messenger from the Border

She woke up with the feeling that she had just been run over and stomped flat by an army. And not by some insignificant eight Valkyries, but by a whole Roman legion. Her arms and legs ached, her head hurt terribly, every heartbeat painfully echoed in her temples.

"Finally!" a voice spoke by her side. Brünnhilde opened her eyes to see that she was lying in her room in the forest hut, and Mime was leaning over her. Outside the window the whole tree was covered by the silvery white birds. The birds' feathers took a rosy shade in the sunset rays.

"It's day already? I mean, it's the next evening?" Brünnhilde looked around, uncomprehending, and then everything that had happened came back to her memory.

"Mime!" she snatched his hand, hardly believing her eyes. "You're alive!"

For once he didn't reply with some snarky comment about her brilliant perceptive skills.

"Alive, as you see," he admitted, a tad embarrassed.

"I thought you were done for!"

"Me? Why? It was you that fell down in battle, I thought the raven's beak went into your eye!"

Unabashed, Brünnhilde burst out sobbing. Her soul was filled with immeasurable happiness and relief.

"What should I do with you?" Mime asked tenderly, putting his arms around her. "You're always showing off and showing off, but at the same time whenever anything happens you cry."

"Had you died… had you died…" she mumbled barely intelligibly. "I wouldn't have known how to live on! I would have thrown myself on the spear…"

"Brünnhilde, my dear, my sweet one, don't talk like that!"

"I've never suspected that you love me so much… to jump before the ravens' claws…" confessed Brünnhilde. "After all, all these years I've been only mocking and taunting you…"

"But we have a jolly sort of life!" the Nibelung said truthfully. "Every time you turn loving with me I know it's genuine, not out of habit like with other wives."

"Genuine," Brünnhilde nodded. She couldn't decide whether to keep crying or to laugh. "Pity you didn't hear how I praised you to Waltraute!.. Or maybe not, you think too much of yourself as it is!"

"Who felt sorry for mocking me?"

"Who called it a jolly life?"

They were in each other's arms, both breathless with laughter now.

"Siegfried will think we've gone mad," said Brünnhilde with certainty.

"Don't worry, he won't. As soon as we made sure you're alive and well and only need some sleep, he ran away to the Gibichungs."

Only about an hour and a half later Brünnhilde had cooled down enough to ask:

"So how did it happen that the battle was over and you survived?"

"It was really quite simple. Exactly as you fell, Siegfried managed to cut Wotan's spear in two. He had the chance to see me running towards you. The archery exercises weren't for nothing: he and Gunther each shot an arrow through one of the raven's wings. Afterwards, as everybody saw Wotan defeated and the ravens' leader on the ground, the outcome was clear enough. Your sisters wanted to take you to Valhalla and treat you there, but when Siegfried and I looked closer and realized you weren't even wounded, we persuaded them not to. Although, to be fair, they are actually quite nice ladies. They promised to come and visit you as soon as Wotan gets over his defeat. Fafner went to his lake. Hagen after him – they still had to get Alberich off the tree. And then Siegfried and Gunther too left for the castle."

"Wait, you've forgotten the main thing. What's with the treasures?"

"Oh, the treasures! It was a perfect farce. My helm was twisted and broken beyond repair. As for the rest of the gold, I asked the Valkyries to tell the Nibelungs to come to the forest and gather it if they like, because I don't want to crouch my back. While the ring... the ring was already with its rightful owners!"

"What?" cried the former Valkyrie.

"That! Yesterday it was blown into the Rhine, and the Rhinemaidens picked it. That's how everything ended, quickly and neatly. So the battle, if you think of it, was completely pointless!"

"I've suspected it from the very start," Brünnhilde shuddered. "Thank goodness no one's been killed."

She stretched her arms and sat on the bed:

"I feel so rested! Let's go to the castle."

"Alright," Mime agreed. "I think they can hardly wait to see us. I told them we'll come as soon as you wake up."

Grane, who had been feeding on grass outside, gave a joyful neigh and stamped his hoof at the appearance of his mistress. Brünnhilde stroked him:

"There's a true friend! And he didn't get tired a bit after all this hustle, did he?"

"It's a mystery to me," said the Nibelung, getting in the saddle with his wife's help. "Not only did he carry Siegfried in battle, but he also later brought you here, Siegfried to the castle, and then galloped here again for us. This stallion, I think, has kept his wings somewhere in secret."

In Gibich's castle Brünnhilde was cheered and petted as if she was the heroine of the day. Brünnhilde herself assured Grimhild and everyone else a hundred times that she would have died without Mime and the key part in the battle had been played by the boys –but in vain. Siegfried announced:

"If Mime and Auntie hadn't made me work in the smithery, I wouldn't have been to reforge Notung so fast," he looked proudly at the sword he now carried. "And I wouldn't have defeated Wotan."

Everybody agreed with this conclusion, and Brünnhilde felt her cheeks growing cherry red.

Gibich, who was very sorry that the birds hadn't woken him for the battle and kept saying how he would have remembered his old skills, prepared a splendid feast in the garden – the garden was fine enough for that by now. He and Grimhild did everything they could to keep Mime and Brünnhilde content – as the former Valkyrie guessed, that was because the Nibelung and her were the only ones on their side to count as wounded.

Gutrune had only eyes for Siegfried, she hardly even spoke to her brother. Gunther wasn't offended at that – he always tried to leave the couple alone together.

When the moon rose in the sky, Hagen came.

"Mother, help me pack my things," he grunted as he went through the gates. "I'm moving."

"Where?" Grimhild exclaimed.

"To the Rhine. To Father."

"That's some news!" Mime blurted out. "Whatever for?"

"He need someone to lean on, Uncle, since he doesn't have the ring," Hagen threw an accusing glance at him. Mime was ready to angrily say that he was tired of everything being blamed on him, but Brünnhilde held him on his seat and whispered:

"Don't spoil the celebration. Let him go, it will be better for us all."

However, it turned out it wasn't Mime who was destined to spoil the celebration. On the next morning at breakfast everybody noticed an unknown rider coming along the river bank.

"Is it the great Gibich's castle?" shouted the man as he reined in his horse in front of the gates.

"Yes, good man," said Gibich, smiling. "Come in, be our guest."

"I have no time. O Gibich, hear the frightening news from the northern borders! The Gauts have attacked our peaceful lands! All the rulers have decided to unite against the enemy!"

Grimhild and Gutrune gasped in unison. The messenger rode further, spurring on his horse, and Gibich said quietly:

"Ye-es... We thought something like that would happen. Well, now I need to gather our irregulars from the villages..."

"You won't go!" his wife stood up. "You won't! The birds are smart, they didn't wake you even last night! You are old, you shouldn't go into campaign!"

"But my dear..."

"Enough! We have three strong young men fit for battle, and you want to go yourself!"

Gibich sat down, saddened. But Siegfried and Gunther's faces lit up with anticipation, and they were already planning their future heroic deeds. Hagen said nothing but began to sharpen his spear.

"Auntie Brünnhilde..." Gutrune asked, her face chalk white. "They'll return? They won't be killed?"

"Sister, honestly!" Gunther laughed. "Siegfried and I weren't harmed by Wotan's men, we'll stomp some Gauts like flies!"

"Had I a weapon, I would have come with you," said Brünnhilde thoughtfully, and everyone burst into laughter.

"No way!" Mime said firmly. "I wouldn't have been able to look after you properly in battle."

"Battle is for men," said Siegfried in an authoritative voice, spinning Notung in the air.


	23. Leaving for the North

Siegfried, Gunther and Hagen left for the war two weeks later, leading the warriors and the irregulars from Gibich's lands. A farewell dinner for them was served near the ruins of Fafner's former cave.

Everyone had come – including the sickly Alberich, leaning on his son's arm. Hagen purposefully demonstrated that he looked after his father only for the sake of duty and honor, but said nothing of it aloud.

"The Rhinemaidens, can you imagined it, have fallen head over heels in love with Hagen – all three of them!" whispered the softhearted Gutrune to Siegfried. She was the only one who visited her half-brother. "They are always looking at him from the water and sighing: oh, how aloof and enigmatic he is! Oh, he must be so sensitive and vulnerable in the depths of his soul!"

Siegfried snickered:

"Sometimes I don't understand women's tastes at all. _What_ do they see in Hagen?"

"Well, I'd rather they sigh for him and not for you," Gutrune gave him a flirty smile.

Considering that the war might last several years, three days after the messenger's visit SIegfried had asked for Gibich's daughter's hand. In truth, it had been so obvious to all that Gibich was surprised that the young lovebirds still weren't engaged. The mistake was immediately corrected, and Siegfried was betrothed to Gutrune.

Brünnhilde was glad. She hadn't particularly wanted Siegfried to bring home some strange girl. Gutrune wasn't breathtakingly beautiful, but she got a tender soul and a quiet, obedient character. Moreover, she loved Siegfried with all her heart. What more could one demand of a hero's wife?

"Cooing doves," said Gunther cheerfully, observing the pair from a distance.

"Envious, are you?" Mime wanted to know.

"Why in the world?"

"You have no bride," Brünnhilde reminded him.

Gunther, a bit embarrassed, stared at the goblet he was holding. It _was_ rather odd that the youngest sister got engaged when two elder brothers didn't even have anyone in mind.

"It's just that there are no noble maidens around except for these sly Rhinedaughters," he said at last. "If Mime wasn't so skilled with a hammer, I would have maybe married you, Auntie Brünnhilde."

Mime raised his finger in warning. Brünnhilde laughed.

"Anyway, I'm sure I'll find a wife during the campaign," and Gunther drank the goblet in one sip.

Of course, no one dared to tease Hagen like that. The half-dwarf wholly devoted himself to the food, consuming the meat rolls and the fried goose so steadily it gave one the shivers. Only sometimes did he talk in a whisper to Alberich who sat next to him.

Even Fafner was invited to the seeing-off (by Brünnhilde, naturally), but he refused. The former Valkyrie didn't insist – the giant would have eaten twice as much as everybody else put together, while he wasn't anyone's relation or close friend.

But she did leave the others for a while and went to see him. The elderly giant built a hut near the lake and lived on fishing, but, despite the touchingly peaceful and close to nature way of life, his soul was restless.

"Still visiting me, Brünnhilde?" he asked drearily as he saw her. "What is the purpose?.."

"How are you?" Brünnhilde was satisfied to notice that three flasks of hers were now empty and lying near the hut.

"Alive and breathing, as you can see. I sleep very badly, especially since I saw my brother's ghost. But the cold's gone, thanks to your mixtures."

"And it's hard without the treasure hoard, right?" the woman added insightfully. "Don't worry, you'll soon be happy to have lost it."

Fafner raised his eyebrows in doubt, but he didn't argue – for every argument of his Brünnhilde reminded him of Mime's example.

Alberich, another former hunter for the ring, had also fallen on hard times. No wonder – for nearly forty years he hadn't thought of anything but the ring, and now he had lost even the chance to get it back. Brünnhilde still hadn't let go of the hope to make peace between the older Nibelung and Mime, and during the last two weeks she had tried speaking with Alberich several times. Sadly, for now it was in vain.

The sun was already in the west, when neighing came from above and eight horses landed on the ground. With the Valkyries on their backs.

"Good day!" Waltraute called her sister shyly. "We wanted to see how you are faring. Have you healed?"

"Perfectly!" Brünnhilde smiled, rushing to meet them. Blood's thicker than water, and, in spite of the recent quarrel, she was happy to see her sisters. "I wasn't even wounded – I only fainted, that's all."

"Father told us to say he was sorry," said Ortlinde. "He will come for a visit himself, when he gets over the loss of the ring. We think it foolishness, but him..."

Glancing at Alberich, Brünnhilde nodded:

"I know what it's like, girls."

"Forgive me for what I've said about you and your husband," said Waltraute. "You see, after you left us, Father selected me as his main messenger..."

"Just as I thought," the former Valkyrie assured her. "Fine, let me introduce you to Gutrune and the boys. You hadn't a chance to meet them properly."

"Isn't it a bad sign to see a Valkyrie before a campaign?" Gutrune asked worriedly.

"As I've already told my grandsire Wotan, one of the Valkyries is before our eyes every day," said Siegfried with the air of a patient sufferer. "Several more would hardly make a difference."

After everyone had been finally introduced to each other, Brünnhilde asked her sisters about the goings-on in Valhalla.

It turned out that in Valhalla everything was as usual. To console himself, Wotan took even more human lovers than before, Fricka complained of the misery of spousal life, Donner and Froh pretended to be busy, Freia tended to her apple trees. The heroes' army, for lack of a better way to kill time, feasted, some of them out of boredom flirting with Freia and the Valkyries. Erda hadn't come to Valhalla for several years – she must have been disappointed that the catastrophe that should have occurred because of the ring was prevented. She slept in her underground realm.

As the girls said, Wotan's latest adventure – the journey in a wanderer's guise through the human lands – ended in the Valkyries getting three half-brothers, one for each class.

"Oh indeed, now I have so many human relations," Brünnhilde concluded. "I should think of myself as human."

"Never!" Mime and the Valkyries flared in unison.

The feast came to an end. In the morning, having spent the night in the open air, Siegfried, Gunther and Hagen after many tears and hugs left for the northern borderlands. Gutrune, weeping, went with them almost two miles, but her tiny mare Hulda couldn't keep up with the young men's stallions.

Grimhild didn't go with her – she stood still, pale as snow.

"I know it's the lot of any woman who has a husband and sons," she sighed when Gutrune returned. "I've seen Gibich off countless times, and I'm still not used to it... Besides, Hagen and Gunther are so young, they haven't been to war..."

"Excuse me!" Mime interrupted. "What about a fortnight ago, when they kept an army of heroes at bay by themselves for two hours?"

Grimhild sighed again, and Brünnhilde put an arm around her shoulder consolingly.

The grim Gibich explained:

"Maybe she thinks only a birth mother would understand her... Siegfried is a foster son to you, after all..."

They went home in silence. Even the silvery white birds flew quietly and the Valkyries left for Valhalla without a sound.

Mime and Brünnhilde wordlessly walked through the forest. It was strange to go to the forest hut without Siegfried and Grane.

"Siegfried might not be our blood, but it's so empty here..." said Mime, entering the quiet house and lighting up the fire in the smithery. "I don't know how we'd have felt if he had been our own son. You know well that I have no idea about that."

"You know what?" Brünnhilde's eyes were suddenly alight with mischief. "If you behave yourself in the next eight and a half months, I think I'll give you a son of your own."

The Nibelung was so startled he didn't even take it in at first.

"And if I don't behave myself?" he asked.

"Then it will be a daughter," said the former Valkyrie in a tone that brooked no argument and put a hand on her stomach.


	24. Epilogue Five Years Later

Fate had decided that during the following eight and a half months Mime was on his very best behavior. Because when the time came Brünnhilde gave birth to the son that the Nibelung had dreamed of all his life, trying to raise Siegfried like one. Little Regin – tall for a dwarf, of middle height for a human, stoop-shouldered, with Mime's face but his mother's black eyes – didn't even think of heroism, was always wary and cautious, but learned everything quickly and spent days in the smithery without being ordered to.

Regin loved his mother well, but it was clear he was his father's son first and foremost. He listened to Brünnhilde battle stories with nothing but mild interest – and ran to learn forging whenever possible.

Siegfried, whose campaign had lasted about one and a half years, adored his little brother. Gutrune and him were always thinking up games for Regin or making clay soldiers for him. After marrying Siegfried, Gutrune settled down in the forest hut, but since they ran to the castle and back on a daily basis anyway it was difficult to say which was their home. To Brünnhilde's secret sorrow, the young pair still had no children – but, judging by everything, they considered Regin their own and didn't currently need more. Siegfried was barely twenty – they had a lot of time ahead. Besides, Mime and Brünnhilde weren't sure that their cozy little hut would remain the same if filled with a crowd of kids.

Time moved on in the castle as well. Gunther, as he had foreseen, brought himself a bride – a golden-haired Northern girl called Helmi. For the first couple of years Helmi had been shy with all elders, from Mime to Gibich, and was so polite and obliging that they shuddered. Then she got accustomed and was, as Siegfried put it, accepted into their circle. She was found out to have an excellent sense of humor – as Grimhild said, without the latter Helmi wouldn't have survived in such a family.

The castle, unlike the hut, was very spacious, and Gunther and Helmi were more than happy to welcome two sons into the world. When the first was born, they wanted to call him Siegfried, but Brünnhilde said she wouldn't allow it while Siegfried the First is a complete child himself. But the Gibichungs insisted to honor their friends in some way or other, and so the first boy was named Friedmund and the second Frohwalt – like Siegfried's father, Siegmund, would have been called if given a chance.

After the first campaign against the Northerner there was a three-year quiet, and then the Gauts attempted revenge, and the warriors had to go to battle once more. The four months of the second were were bloodier than the first one – those who stayed at home went half-mad when the bits and pieces of news made their way from the border. The whole family sat in the hut – it was to the north from the castle – and looked out for the returning troops. Or for the Valkyries bearing tragic tidings – her sisters promised to Brünnhilde to tell her instantly if they had to carry Siegfried, Gunther or Hagen to Valhalla.

Thankfully, it wasn't needed. The Gauts were crushed, and one happy day the three friends came home.

They returned in July, and now it was the end of September. After three weeks of showers, the sun suddenly brought summer warmth. Mime and Brünnhilde decided to catch the moment before the autumn comes in full force. They took Regin and went for a walk.

Near the forest lake they visited Fafner, who was still living alone but was friendly with his former enemies' families, growing especially fond of the children. Regin used it to his advantage – he was never allowed to have more than two pies at home, but at Fafner's he ate several large fish pies at once. But he was glad to cheer the old man up with his naive talk, too.

"He's a bit like my brother," said Fafner frequently.

Naturally, they also came to the hut where Alberich and Hagen lived – Mime had learned to do it almost without disgust. The guests were mostly entertained by Hagen – after all, he had been influenced by Gibich's family and by Mime and Brünnhilde. Besides, the former Valkyrie suspected that with all his gloominess the half-dwarf wasn't so indifferent to the Rhinemaidens who made eyes at him.

"Rubbish!" said Hagen when she suggested it aloud. But Alberich was more perceptive.

"Indeed, the looks of a dwarf and a half-dwarf are different," he lamented one day when his son wasn't around. "When it's about me, these beauties only scoff. When it's about Hagen, they cling to him themselves!"

"It's not that," Brünnhilde explained. "You need to be grim and mysterious. It has an effect on young maids. I can bet you anything that if Gutrune hadn't been Hagen's half-sister, Siegfried would have had a serious rival."

"That Helmi of yours isn't particularly moved by him either," the Nibelung pointed out.

"Don't count Helmi, she was won by Gunther in battle and it melted her heart at once. Had it not been for the battle, she wouldn't have been so unmoved..."

Having spent some time with Alberich and Hagen, in the evening the family came to the forest corner. Mime and Brünnhilde gathered late cranberries and cowberries for a while and then sat on a small rock, watching Regin playing among the fallen leaves.

"Dad! Mom! I've found a thing of gold!" the boy cheerfully picked up a gold hairpin adorned with a diamond. Despite a thorough search done by the inhabitants of Nibelheim, such discoveries were fairly frequent in the neighborhood. Regin ran to them and gave the hairpin to his mother.

"Thank you, darling," smiled Brünnhilde. Regin's attention was already focused on a hedgehog, busily making its way through the leaves with a mushroom on its quills.

Mime looked around:

"Brünnhilde, do you know where we've come?"

"Where?" the former Valkyrie had a look too. "The place's familiar..."

"Familiar right enough," the dwarf laughed. "Look up! It's the very same cliff where you've slept for four years!"

He was still chuckling to himself, especially when his tired wife dozed off, laying her head on his shoulder.


End file.
